Cooking with Miss Woodhouse
by Lia06
Summary: A Modern Emma; Emma is a chef with her own show on the Food Network. Andrew Knightley is her executive producer who just drives her nuts. She tries to make matches; he worries about her.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my attempt at a modernized Emma in the world of the Food Network. Feel free to tell me what you think.

* * *

Title: Cooking with Miss Woodhouse

Rating: T

* * *

"I did it!" I told Andrew Knightley as we sat at the head table and watched the newly married Nina Taylor and Charlie Weston dance their first dance together. "I got them together."

Andrew didn't hesitate to laugh at me. "Emma, let me explain something to you. Just because four years ago you casually mentioned to me that MAYBE Nina might have a crush on the guy who owns her favorite coffee shop that does NOT mean that you got them together. You never even met Charlie until after they started going out."

I gave him my best evil eye, something that I normally saved my students. "I don't care what you say, Mr. High-and-Mighty. I got them together. You just can't understand."

"Yeah, I don't understand. You've got that right. I have no clue how your mind works, Miss Emma Woodhouse."

"That is because you are a boy and boys cannot understand the intricacies of the female mind."

"Oh great," Andrew sighed. "I'm once again just being thrown out as a dumb boy. I'm twenty-six years old but I'm still constantly being labeled a dumb boy."

"That's because you are a dumb boy," I replied. "You're the dumbest of the dumb boys."

* * *

My name is Emma Elizabeth Woodhouse and I'm twenty-six years old, just like Andrew Knightley. I've wanted to be a matchmaker ever since watching Yenta cluck around in _Fiddler on the Roof_ when I was eleven and I've wanted to be a cook since the first time my mother, the great chef Daniela Woodhouse, let me help in the kitchen. I got my associate's degree in culinary arts and then got a job working at a classy restaurant in Highbury, Michigan. And then I wrote a few articles for the local newspaper-just recipes, do it yourself type stuff. And then somehow, I was discovered by the Food Network; this admittedly had something to do with my mom's friends from her career as a chef in New York City. Two years ago, I got my own show-_Cooking with Miss Woodhouse_. And Andrew, my childhood best friend and next-door neighbor, got a job as my producer. And the best part is that they shoot the show in my kitchen. So I teach the world how to cook; it's pretty fantastic.

But after college, he got his own apartment in the Donwell Estates apartment complex while I moved back into my dad's house to take care of him. My dad is a widower in his early seventies and he hates being alone-even for a few hours. He likes knowing where his family is and being able to feel secure that they're there for him. When my older sister, Ava, married Andrew's brother, Jack, Dad hid from the world moaning and groaning about the evils of marriage and how no one should ever abandon their family. I ignored him some days and others I did my best to placate him. It really depends on my level of patience after a day in the kitchen.

* * *

"I don't see why anyone would ever want to get married," my dad sighed as I drove him home from the wedding that night. I'd managed to get out of helping to clean the reception hall because Nina knows what my dad is like.

"You married Mom," I reminded him.

"That was thirty years ago. Things were different then," he protested. "Poor Nina has to leave her parents. Think about poor Mr. and Mrs. Taylor, Emma. Just think about them. They're left all alone in that big house of theirs with no one to care for them in their old age."

This sort of logic seemed backward to me but I stuck with the basic facts of the situation. "Dad, first, Nina moved out of her parents' house when she graduated from college. And secondly, Mr. and Mrs. Parker moved to Arizona because of Mr. Parker's job right after that. And thirdly, they live in an apartment. They're not rattling around any big old house."

"But don't you remember when poor Ava married Jack and had to move all the way to Washington D.C. to be with him? Why did they have to move? They could have lived with his parents or with us. I would have loved to have had them with us. I hate having her so far away. It's unbearable, Emma, simply unbearable. They didn't need to go to Washington."

"Dad, in case you've forgotten, Jack's job is in D.C."

"He could have commuted. It's not that far," my father protested. "I can't stand having Ava so far away. And now she has Carson and there's another baby on the way. It's just obscene. They're simply too far away. And they never visit. And they didn't even come to poor Nina's wedding."

I sighed. "Okay, Dad, I'll talk to Ava soon and see when they can visit. But she was just here with Carson last month. And the new baby is due so soon; it's not good for her to be traveling."

"If she were here, Dr. Parker could take care of her. And she could live with us."

But my brother-in-law has a job in D.C. And Carson attends a preschool in D.C. right now. "If she were here, she couldn't be with Jack," I reminded my dad. "And Jack needs to be in D.C. until Christmas."

"Well, I'm her father. She should want to be with me."

I sighed. It was at moments like this that I gave up with my father. He doesn't really think about what he's saying. I've heard people call him selfish and controlling and I don't like that description of him. He just likes things a certain way. But I don't mind. He's my daddy and I love him but he is impossible.

"Dad, when Mom was pregnant with Ava, would you have rather had her with you here? Or would you have preferred that she was with Grandpa Maloney in Chicago?"

"That's easy," he replied. "I wanted her with me."

"Now how do you think Jack would feel if we took his wife away from him while she was pregnant?"

"That's different," he protested. "Your mother was my wife. Ava is my daughter."

I sighed and pulled into the driveway. After opening the garage and letting Dad out, I pulled in and park the car. Then, I hauled all of my things, which include purse, shoes, make-up bag, my bouquet, and the throw bouquet that I caught, into my bedroom and then ignored Dad's suggestion that I go to bed and instead settled down in front of the TV in my pajamas to watch whatever happens to be on. I'm not very picky at eleven-thirty at night. And so I watched _ALF _reruns until two in the morning and then went to bed.

* * *

Monday morning, I was still exhausted from the weekend. And when I came downstairs to my kitchen/studio, Andrew was Mr. Perky. I hate that guy; Andrew, not Mr. Perky. I don't know who Mr. Perky is. Well, Andrew but that's beside the point. I'm supposed to be Miss Perky; that's the role I play on the show. But I only become Miss Perky after about three cups of coffee-minimum. Andrew, being a natural morning person, doesn't understand and accuses me of being addicted to caffeine. He just does not understand me or my needs. Nina gets me; Nina is a caffeine addict. She's one of my assistant producers and fabulous. And now they're giving me a new personal assistant; I scared off my last one. Her name is Halley Smith and she's supposed to be like twenty or something, fresh out of college. I don't know how she feels about coffee or caffeine; they didn't let me interview her before they hired her.

"Hey, Red," Andrew greeted me when I walked into the kitchen.

I stuck my tongue out at him as I poured my second cup of coffee and then added hazelnut creamer. "My hair is auburn, not red," I said after drinking half the cup.

"Sorry," he said. "But 'hey, red' sounds a lot better than 'hey, auburn.' So you're stuck. Plus, in _The Philadelphia Story_, Cary Grant calls Katharine Hepburn 'Red.'"

"I hate Katharine Hepburn," I replied after drinking the rest of the cup and pouring cup number three.

"But you love that movie."

"God, you're annoyingly persistent."

"Okay, you know what, Red? I'm going to go away and never bother you again."

"That would be ideal," I replied. "And stop calling me Red."

"I'll think about it," he said walking out of the room.

Just then, a small blonde girl walked into the kitchen. "Hi," she whispered. "My name is Halley Smith and I'm supposed to be Ms. Woodhouse's new assistant."

"I'm Emma Woodhouse," I replied, thinking that this girl couldn't even be the twenty-years-old that the recruiter had told Andrew that she was. She looked like she was about fifteen and there was no way she could fit into a cable cooking show. So I decided to greet her with a warm smile and then I'd take her under my wing and make her fit into the world of my cooking show.

"How are you doing today?" I asked her.

"I'm goo-fi-fine," she stuttered. "I-this is my first TV show."

I smiled. "It's mine too. Don't worry; it's not too stressful. And lucky you, you'll never be on camera."

"I don't want to be on camera."

I laughed and patted her shoulder; she was shaking. "Don't worry; you won't be on camera."

She took a deep breath. "This is my first job since school. I'm really nervous. I've never worked for anyone famous before."

"I'm nobody special," I told her. "I just cook in front of a camera crew a couple times a week, stop in at the restaurant, work on the cookbook, and do publicity. And I have a social life."

"But you're on TV. You're famous."

I smiled. "Halley, I'm really just a cook."

"I'll bet your boyfriend doesn't think that," she replied.

"I'm single," I told her.

"That sucks. You seem like the type of girl who could get an amazing guy. You should date that guy from _The Office_. He's cute. I bet you two would get along great."

"He probably has no clue who I am." And I had no clue which guy from _The Office_ she was talking about. Dwight? NO! Jim? Maybe but I think that actor is dating someone.

* * *

A few minutes later, Andrew came back into the room with Joyce Bates, one of my assistant producers; she's probably in her mid-fifties and has never left Highbury for more than a week. "All right, Emma," he said. "Here's the thing. Halley doesn't feel comfortable being on camera tasting your food or any of the stuff Grace used to do for you. So Joyce is going to do that now."

"I still don't think this is that great of an idea," Joyce said. "I'm not the most outgoing person."

"Nina's on her honeymoon," Andrew said. "And Grace is gone. Halley is camera-shy. You're all we've got, Joyce. And I have faith in you. You'll be great."

"All you have to do is hand me things and taste stuff," I told her. "It's really simple. And talking is easy. It's just like normal conversation."

"But there are cameras!"

In all honesty, I'd said the same thing a few years earlier when my mom's old friend, Liz Coventry, pitched me the idea of a cooking show. I'd been terrified of the cameras. But I'd never told Andrew that. And I wasn't about to tell Joyce that. I had to pretend that I'd always been confident and comfortable in front of the cameras.

So I told her to take a deep breath. "Trust me. You'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Joyce asked. "But I've never done anything like this before."

I wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders and noted that they were shaking. "You'll be great. I have faith in you. And besides, it's only for a week. Nina will be back in no time."

"Five episodes, Joyce," Andrew said in his no-nonsense way. "That's all I'm asking of you. Please, can you do it for me?"

Oh, he can be cute when he wants. And of course she gives into his charm. There was no question about that as soon as he smiled at her. He's charming and sweet and genuine. That's the problem with Andrew; he's real. He doesn't just use his charm to manipulate women. He just wants everyone to be happy.

* * *

And it happened, things went smoothly-like glass. We made a chicken dish using Asian sesame-ginger salad dressing as a marinade. Then I cooked up white rice and steamed broccoli and poured the same dressing on it as a sauce. And then I made an Asian-inspired salad using the same dressing. It was delicious-one of Andrew's favorite meals. I love it too; my dad hates it though. He's not much for exotic cuisine, which is funny because he married a chef. But it isn't really that exotic of a meal. But Joyce loved it. "This is so good," she raved after trying it. "And it's so easy to make. Even an idiot could make it."

I just kept smiling through that one. I want the stuff on my show to be simple but I don't want someone to say that it's so simple an idiot could do it. After we were done, I hugged Joyce. "You were great," I enthused. "I'm so glad you were there."

"Thanks," she said, blushing. "I was really nervous. I don't know if you could tell."

"Nope, you were a natural," I replied.

"Hey, Red," Andrew said walking by just then. "That was a great show."

"Stop calling me 'Red.'"

"Never," he replied. "I'll call you Red until you stop wearing Chucks during the show."

"Not happening," I told him. "I'll dress in cute clothes and look stunningly stylish. But the Chucks stay."

He laughed. "Then so does the nickname."

I sighed. "Whatever, just give me more coffee."

"You've had four cups already today."

"Five," I corrected him. "I had the three before the show and then two during the show."

"Emma, let's face something together. You're addicted to coffee and you have been since the eighth grade."

"I can quit coffee whenever I want."

"Bullshit," he replied before walking away.

"Joyce," I said turning back to her. "Do you think I'm addicted to coffee?"

"I don't know," she replied. "But my niece, Jessie Fairfax, met a crack addict once."

I smiled like I did whenever she mentioned her precious niece who was an aspiring chef at some vegetarian restaurant in Toledo or Cleveland or somewhere else in Ohio. I kind of tend to zone out when Joyce starts talking about Jessie…or just when she talks in general. She's really boring and repetitive. And she likes to drone on and on. "Poor Jessie," she was saying as I came back to reality. "She just wants to help other people but there are so many confused people in this world. There are so many people who turn to drugs and alcohol to solve their problems."

"It's a tragedy of our modern society," I told her. "But I've really got to go talk to my new assistant."

"Halley Smith, she's so cute."

I nodded as I walked away looking for the aforementioned cute twenty-year-old. I wanted to get to know her a little bit and calm her down. I was looking for a new young, single girl friend now that Nina was married. And Halley-young, cute, probably single, and almost definitely extremely impressionable-was just what I was looking for.

* * *

I found Halley sitting on a couch outside my office. She had perfect posture and she looked like someone was going to shove her in front of a firing squad any minute now. She was petite and had a very young, naïve face. She had pale blue eyes, pale blonde hair, and creamy white skin. She was wearing twill trousers-probably because someone told her they would make her look more mature-with a bright red blouse, which was entirely too loud for her complexion, and conservative black ballet flats. And she was quivering like a leaf.

"Halley," I said with a smile walking towards her. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," she replied shyly. "I'm sorry I couldn't be on the show today. I'm just really shy."

"It's fine," I told her. "I've had some pretty shy assistants before. I should warn you, Halley, I'm pretty demanding. I'm probably the most demanding boss you'll ever have."

"I doubt that. You seem really nice."

I laughed. "This is only your first day. I'm pretty sure I've scared some of my former assistants to death or landed them in therapy."

She smiled. "You seem so sweet."

"Appearances can be deceiving," I told her. "But let's get to work."

"So what do I have to do?" she asked me. "What does a personal assistant do?"

"You'll answer the phone, sort my mail, arrange my appointments, and whatever else I tell you to do. You'll bring me my coffee when I want it and the way I want it. And I'm very picky about my coffee. Didn't they explain all of this at the interview?"

She shrugged. "I was having a hard time paying attention. I was really nervous. The only thing I know about being a personal assistant come from watching _Ugly Betty_."

"Oh," I said. "Well, I can guarantee you that working for me will be much more boring than that. But it'll be intense. Working for me is a serious job, not just a game or a TV show."

"I'll try my best."

"That's all I asked," I told her with a smile as I opened the door to my office. "And don't forget to tell me when someone is here to see me."

And then I went into my office to browse recipes in my mother's cookbooks.

* * *

About half an hour later while I was contemplating seventeen different kinds of meatloaf, Halley burst into my office with a frantic look on her face. "There's a man outside with two cups of coffee. And he says he needs to talk to you. And I think he's Andrew. And I don't know how to call your office from my desk. And he offered to show me. But I don't know if I can trust him."

I disentangled my long legs from the easy chair in which I'd been curled up and walked over to the door of my office. "Calm down, Halley," I told her as I saw Andrew standing there with two paper cups from Starbucks in his hands as well as a large red folder tucked under his arm.

"Is it Andrew?" she asked me nervously.

I nodded. "Let me show you how to call my office from your desk and then I'll talk to Andrew. Andrew, I'll see you in two seconds."

Ten minutes later, I was finally done explaining how to press *162 to Halley and I went back to my office. "The new assistant seems high-strung," Andrew remarked.

"Didn't you hire her?"

He shook his head. "No, hiring of your personal assistant, according to the Food Network, is neither my responsibility nor is it yours. Rather, it apparently belongs to Ethan."

"Oh dear god," I moaned. Ethan Percy was one of Andrew's assistants. He was really nerdy although a good guy in general. He liked to talk and he'd never had a girlfriend-to my knowledge.

"What? You don't trust Ethan?"

"No, it's not that. It's just I would have liked to have had some say in picking my assistant. I thought you did that. Halley isn't even trained. I don't have time to train my assistant."

"I know. You have a show to plan. And that's why I'm here. I stopped at Starbucks to get you a raspberry mocha."

I picked it up as I sat down at my desk and took a sip of my favorite beverage. "What's up? What do the execs want now?"

"A theme for your show," he replied.

"I already air live," I protested. "What more do they want?"

"Jessie Fairfax is starting a new all vegetarian show."

"I like meat."

He laughed. "I'm thinking we should do a bunch of backyard barbecue shows. What do you think?"

"You'd have to help. You're really good with a grill."

He shrugged. "I'm game if you are."

"Awesome," I said.

Andrew nodded. "I'll call the execs and we'll get it underway. We can do it leading up to Labor Day."

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I don't own Emma. I really love people who review my stories.

* * *

My father-Henry Dashwood-has lived in Highbury for most of his life. He was born there and considered it his home while he traveled the world playing professional tennis. He retired when he was about thirty and started coaching. He never coached anyone terribly important or great. He coached some good players-but no one like John McEnroe or anyone like that. And then, when he was about forty, he went to Chicago to visit a player he was thinking about coaching. Dad, the guy, and the kid's parents went out to dinner at a small Italian bistro called Angelo's. Daniela Maloney was the head chef that night and she came out to give the overly demanding customer seated in Booth Nine a piece of her mind after he sent back the same dish-veal parmesan, I think-four times. But then Daniela, who was like twenty-eight, saw Henry and somehow they fell in love. She moved to Highbury and they got married. They had two daughters, Ava and Emma-also known as me. Daniela cooked at a restaurant in Highbury and then managed to get her own show that ran on the local NBC-affiliate and then went to the whole state and then ended up mostly national. And then the young Food Network picked her up. And then she died in a car accident.

Growing up, Ava spent most of her time with Dad, playing tennis and making up ailments and worrying about things. Meanwhile, I was with Mom-cooking, sewing, gardening, and laughing. People always commented on how good Mom was for Dad. And she was. She laughed and talked and sang. She wasn't nearly as serious as Dad was. She was like a bright ray of sunshine in Dad's life.

Ava inherited some of Mom's personality-her fashion sense and ability to accessorize. Mom loved creating an outfit or setting a table for a dinner. But while Mom was happiest as the Domestic Goddess, Ava was happiest chasing after tennis balls. But she never had the ambition to go pro; I don't know why. So after high school, she got a degree in business from the University of Michigan-and played four years of varsity tennis. Then she and Jack both went to law school. After four years of law school, they got married and moved to Washington D.C. Two years later, Carson Oliver Knightley was born. And now they're expecting baby number two. Andrew thinks we should have Ava on my show sometime. But she always resists.

* * *

"When is your sister going to visit?" my father asked when I came into his study around six-thirty.

"After she has the baby," I replied. "What do you want for dinner?"

"What did you make on the show today?"

"Asian sesame chicken with rice and broccoli," I replied sitting down on his desk.

"Foreign food," he moaned. "Can't you ever make something simple and easy to digest?"

"What do you want to eat, Dad?"

"Plain chicken and buttered noodles," he replied.

"Boring," Andrew said walking into the room. "Are there any leftovers available?"

I laughed. "Dad doesn't want them. I want some but there are a lot."

"Score!" he said with a smile. "I love all the free food I get from my job."

"It's compensation for having to put up with me," I told him. "I'm impossible."

"Emma, don't make fun of yourself. You're a dear, sweet girl and anyone would love to work with you," my dad said.

"Let's eat," Andrew said. "I'm hungry. And we need to make the buttered noodles and chicken for you, Mr. W."

My dad smiled at Andrew. Andrew really is good at making people happy. "You're right. Let's go eat, children."

It had become a tradition for Andrew to have dinner with my father and me. There were always leftovers after taping a show. And Andrew, being a guy, likes to eat and he'll never turn down free food. Since my dad rarely enjoys the stuff I make on the show, I feed it to Andrew. Nina likes it too. Nina loves cooking but she hates cooking just for one person. But now that she's married, she probably won't be begging food off of me anymore. So it'll be back to Andrew and me. Maybe Halley will want to join us.

* * *

"Is Ethan still single?" I asked Andrew as we walked to the kitchen.

"Yes, and don't go trying to find him a girlfriend. He's better off single. He's really socially awkward."

"He's cute," I said.

"So you date him."

"He's cute in the puppy or little brother way. I'd never date him or marry him or anything like. That's gross."

"But you want someone else to date him and marry him?"

I shrugged. "Well, sure, yeah, just because I don't want to marry him doesn't mean that there isn't some girl out there for him. It just isn't me."

"So who do you have in mind for him?"

"I'm not sure yet. What do you think of Halley?"

"Hell no," he replied. "He's not for Ethan."

"But she's so cute and he's cute."

"Trust me on this, Emma. Don't due it. He's not right for her. And more, she's really not right for him. He's kind of an elitist and I've heard him say that he'd never marry a woman who doesn't at least have her bachelor's degree."

"All guys say stuff like that in theory," I told him. "But when it comes down to reality, chemistry and physical attraction mean way more than some dumb ideals."

"Red, you're wrong about Ethan. He's not all guys or even most guys."

I sighed. "Stop calling me Red."

"Stop matchmaking and wearing your Chucks all the freaking time."

"Never," I replied, stamping my foot.

"Then you're still Red."

I glared at him. "I don't see why you always have to tease me."

He shrugged. "It's fun. You always react."

I filled a pot with water and set it to boil on the stove. "Well, I'm not going to react anymore. I'm just going ignore you when you try to tease me."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

I smiled at him. "From today on, I'm a changed woman."

"I'll hold you to that."

* * *

The next morning, I made a point of very sweetly introducing Halley to Ethan Percy. "I think you two will really get along," I told them. "Halley, if you need me, I'll be on set talking to Joyce."

"On set?" she asked, sounding clueless and confused as I walked away.

"She'll be in the kitchen," Ethan told Halley.

"Oh!" she said with enthusiasm. "I'll see you soon, Emma!"

And then I went off to the set, figuring that I wouldn't see either of them for a while. They needed to get to know each other and fall in love with each other.

"Where's Halley? Your phone is ringing like crazy," Andrew asked when I walked into the kitchen.

"With Ethan," I replied going to the refrigerator.

"Emma, no more matchmaking," he said. "I told you to stop."

"It worked with Nina and Charlie."

"No it didn't."

I glared at him. "Just shut up."

"Make me," he replied.

"I'll punch you."

"You hit like a girl."

"I do not."

"Do too," he replied, cocking his head.

"Do not!" I protested.

"Oh come on," Andrew said with a frustrated sigh. "Punch me then. If you don't punch like a girl, then punch me. I'll be a man and take it."

So I punched his chest. "That hurt," I said. "When did you start working out?"

"About ten years ago," he replied. "And generally you're supposed to punch people's eyes not their chests."

I rolled my eyes. "Where is Joyce?"

"Hair and make-up," he said. "She wants to look her best."

"Can I have some ice for my hand?"

He laughed. "Am I really that powerful?"

I nodded. "I thought you were a wuss."

"Think again," he said.

* * *

The show went really well. We made a Thai-themed meal, which was "really spicy," according to Joyce. It was spicy but it was good. "Did you like it?" I asked her afterwards.

She nodded. "I loved it. I was wondering if I could have the recipe so I could make it for Mother."

Joyce lived with her mother who was old and in constant poor health. "Can she eat it?"

"I could leave the spices off of hers," she replied. "I really liked it. But she is rather picky."

I smiled. "The recipe is online. But I could give you a copy too. I probably have one in my office."

"I'd love that. And so would Mother."

Okay, seriously, who calls their mom "Mother?" I don't care if you're fifty-seven. Dude, you can call her Mom. It's not that hard. But I don't tell Joyce things like that. She's really sensitive. I am not sensitive. Andrew says I can be a bitch. I think he can be an asshole. But he'd argue with me about that. He's cocky. But people love him.

* * *

"You want to name your kids Bryn and Rhys? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Oh shut up," I told Andrew. It was Thursday night and we were cooking and drinking and talking. We did it every Thursday. My dad went out to dinner with some friends and Andrew and I cooked, drank wine, and told each other stupid things. That particular night, I'd admitted to wanting to name my first daughter Bryn and my first son Rhys.

"They're Welsh names or something like that. You're not Welsh."

"But they're pretty names."

"Yeah and your son will get mocked because everyone will associate him with Reese Witherspoon," Andrew told me.

"Oh please, no one will remember her in like ten years."

He rolled his eyes. "Shut up and pour the coriander into the pot."

"I hate you."

"It's mutual."

"So why do we spend so much time together?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "I think we like the same kinds of wine or something. Plus, we grew up next door to each other and went to school together. My brother is married to your sister. We work together. I think it's just easier if we're friends."

"You're right," I said. "So what are you doing tomorrow night?"

"I'm guessing you already have plans for me."

I smiled. "You're having dinner with Percy, Halley, and me."

"Like fun I am," he replied once again referencing _The Philadelphia Story_. I have no clue why it's his favorite movie but it is. And I never stop hearing quotations and references from it.

"Why wouldn't you do it? What else would you do with your Friday night? Talk to your dog?"

He rolled his eyes. "I do have a life aside from hanging out with you. I have other friends in this world."

"Really?" I said in pretend shock. "I've never met any."

"The temptation to tell you to go to hell is really strong right now."

"Please?" I said making a puppy face. "I really want you there."

"Don't do it."

"They'd be so cute together. They've spent a lot of time talking lately."

"Ethan isn't interested in her. He wants a highly educated woman. You know the list of requirements for an accomplished woman from Pride and Prejudice? Ethan's list of requirements for his future wife is much longer."

I laughed. "People always say things they don't mean. Like my sister always said she wanted to marry Teddy Laurence from Little Women and your brother doesn't have much in common with Teddy at all."

"I'll come tomorrow. But I want you to know that I think you're wrong. But I'll give you one chance to play your little games. And I'm only doing this until Nina gets back. Then you can count me out."

"Thank you, Andrew. It really means a lot to me."

"That's the only reason I'm doing it. I don't like this Yenta streak you think you're on. Remember that in _Fiddler on the Roof_ the best marriages were those made by Adam and Eve's matchmaker rather than Yenta herself."

"But people need help. Would Nina and Charlie ever have gotten married if I hadn't helped them along?"

He sighed. "Can we just cook and talk about the stupid things you want to name your children?"

"I like the names Bryn and Rhys! I think they're cool names."

* * *

"I'm not legally old enough to drink wine," Halley told me as we started making dinner the next night.

"But it's in a private home. You're with three legal adults."

"My parents don't let us drink at home and I still live with them."

I sighed. "It's okay if you drink while you're here. It's just one glass of wine. You won't be getting drunk or anything."

"I'm not sure," she said slowly. "I'd rather just have pop."

"Fine," I said. "Go look in the fridge and pick something out."

Just then, Ethan Percy and Andrew came into the kitchen from their offices. "Miss Emma, may I tell you that you look positively lovely this evening," Ethan said as soon as he entered the kitchen.

I smiled at him. I was just wearing black capris, a French blue blouse, and a pair of flip-flops. "Thanks, Ethan, but it's nothing special. But look at Halley; I think she looks great."

Halley was wearing a khaki pencil skirt and a pale green blouse. And she did look great. "Very cute, Miss Smith," Ethan said.

"You look great, Halley," Andrew added. "Green is a good color for you."

Andrew is great at stuff like that. He just makes people feel good about themselves and they like him. And he knows exactly what he's doing. He knows that he makes people like him. So he keeps doing that stuff. He likes being liked. He was really popular in high school-prom king, class president, most likely to succeed. Everyone loved him. And everyone still loves him. He could get himself elected president if he wanted.

"So Halley, what did you do with your life before this job?" Andrew asked as we all settled ourselves in the living room with our dinner.

"I went to Goddard Community College and got my associate's degree so I could work as a clerical assistant. I was thinking I could be someone's receptionist or something. And then I found this job."

"Did you grow up in Goddard?" I asked.

"Yeah, I was born in Tulsa, Oklahoma but my parents gave me up for adoption and I ended up in Goddard with Rick and Bonnie Smith. They're great people and I love them. They're the only parents I've ever known. I've lived with them since I was about eight months old."

"Do you know anything about your biological parents?" Ethan asked.

"Nope," she said. "I just know that they lived in Tulsa. I know that I was adopted through a Christian organization. I guess I could see the files if I wanted. I've just never really been curious. And they've never come looking for me. They could be dead for all I know."

"Wow, that's so interesting," Ethan said. "You really should look into that. I bet Emma could help you with that. You could do something about it on the show or something."

"No," Andrew said. "The show is about cooking, not exposing people's personal lives. Emma could help Halley privately but not publicly. I don't want that on the show. This show was inspired by Emma's mother's show. And Daniela never would have done anything like that."

"I agree with Andrew," I said. "My mom never would have done something like that. She invited you into her home to cook with her, not to explore other people's lives."

"I just thought it would be something fun and different for the viewers."

"That's what Grill Week is about," Andrew told him. "We're going to start having a different theme every week and jazz things up a bit."

"How does Emma feel about that?" Ethan said. "That sounds like the network is dictating a lot to her and taking away her control of the show."

"Emma is fine with it," I said. "I pick the themes for the weeks. It's still up to me. It just makes more of an effort to keep the viewers coming back for more. And I want to do that. I want to keep my viewers excited and interested."

"I just don't want you to get lost in all of this," Ethan told me.

"Don't worry about me," I replied. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

* * *

A/N: Please review. It makes me writer faster.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I don't own Emma. And I love reviewers-a lot.

* * *

Monday marked my last week before my themed weeks began. Monday, I was making spaghetti carbonara with garlic bread and salad. And there was tiramisu for dessert. It's definitely one of my all time favorite meals. Tuesday was all about comfort foods-meatloaf and stuff like that. Wednesday was fruit-themed-pork marinated in a raspberry sauce, a salad with strawberries and apples, and an amazing fruit cobbler for dessert. Thursday we were making a vegetarian meal with stuffed mushrooms, a salad, and a vegan dessert. And Friday was fish and chips-per Andrew's request. He loves fish and chips. "And it all has to be beer-battered," he told me. "And use a good beer. Forget it, Emma. You're a wine person, not a beer person. I'll buy the beer for you."

That is pure Andrew for you. I'm a wine snob; he's a beer snob. It actually works out pretty well. We compliment each other. I do enjoy working with him. I just can't stand how pretentious he is and how perfect he thinks he is. He's Mr. Do-Good who has to make everyone happy all the time. And in addition to being really good at picking beer, he's an amazing cook. But he never lets on. He can cook but don't let him do the dishes; he sucks at that. And I didn't even know it was humanly possible to suck at doing the dishes until the first time I watched Andrew's vague attempts at cleaning a pot. He also can't clean or load a dishwasher. He's basically useless. But he can cook and mow the lawn. Oh, and he can wash a car. But he is far from perfect. And he hates cashews. And he's allergic to dust mites.

* * *

"You talk too much," Andrew told me Monday morning following me into my office after we taped the show.

"On air?" I asked.

"No, just in real life, you never listen to me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Halley is desperately in love with Ethan."

"Good," I said with a smile. "Damn, I need more coffee. I've got a headache."

"You're addicted."

"I am not. I could quit it any day at any moment and be totally fine."

"Prove it to me."

"Some other time, I'm tired now. I need caffeine to stay awake."

"You're pathetic, Emma Woodhouse."

"No one says that to me and lives."

"What are you going to kill me with?"

I shrugged. "I'm a chef. I've got plenty of knives."

"That's too predictable," Nina Taylor-Weston said as she walked into my office. "Anyone writing a story about a chef would have them kill their nemesis with a knife. You need to be more original."

"Hey, Nina, how was your honeymoon?" Andrew asked her.

"It was fantastic, and no one killed anyone," she told him. "But it's good to be home again. Paris is wonderful but I like home best."

"You went to Paris?" I asked. Her honeymoon had been a surprise from Charlie. "That's so fantastic. I'm jealous. I want to go to Paris."

"You just want to go to a French culinary arts school," Andrew told me.

"I want to see Versailles and the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame too!" I protested. "But yeah, I'd love to learn French cooking from a French chef. And then I'd love to go to Tuscany and Greece and Spain and Morocco. I want to be a better cook."

"Oh come on, Emma," Nina protested. "You're a great cook."

"But I could be better."

"Emma, you're great."

"And there's always room for improvement."

Andrew sighed. I bet he thought that I needed to improve my life outside of the kitchen more than my life in the kitchen. He thinks I need to stop being a matchmaker. But I think matchmaking is fun. I like seeing other people happy. I'm not really interested in dating anyone myself. But I like seeing other people in relationships. I don't need a man, but other girls do. I like to give them what they need. I really like making other people happy.

* * *

"What do you think of Ethan Percy?" I asked Halley later that day while we were in my office.

She shrugged. "He's pretty cool. But I'm kind of already interested in someone else."

"Oh really, who?" I asked.

"Robby Martin," she replied.

"Robby Martin, the barista at A Modern Cup of Joe?" I asked.

She nodded and a big smile consumed her face. "He's so dreamy."

"He's boring," I told her. "And he's so young. You need someone older, more mature."

"I'm only twenty. And Robby is twenty-one."

"No, you should aim higher," I told her.

"But I like Robby. He makes amazing chai lattes. And he plays guitar. And he plays like John Mayer. And he's in a band."

"That's cool but can he play Kansas?"

"Kansas?" she asked. "Are you talking about the state?"

"No," I said. "It's a classic rock band."

"I don't listen to classic rock," she told me. "I listen to 93.1, All of the Hits."

"Oh, that's cool. I'm more interested in classic rock like Boston, Kansas, Queen, and Pink Floyd."

"Well Robby is really into stuff like John Mayer and Jason Mraz. He can play that song 'Lucky' by Jason Mraz and it's so freaking sexy. I love it. He's a really good guitarist and he's so sexy when he's playing. His band has a show this weekend. You should come with me."

"It's not my thing," I told her. "I really don't like concerts. They're too loud. And I'm busy on Friday. I'm having a small dinner party. You should come. Ethan will be there."

"But I want to see Robby's concert." She sounded like a teenager protesting against a parent imposing a curfew. "He's going to sing 'Lucky' just for me."

"You're too good for Robby," I told her. "And you need better taste in music. We're going to work on your taste in music and in boys."

"So want to hear about my latest project?" I asked Nina later that evening over drinks.

"Are you matchmaking again?" my brunette friend asked me as she swirled the contents of her glass.

I smiled. "You've met my assistant, Halley? She's really cute."

"Yeah, she seems nice but really shy."

"Good observation," I told her. "I want to set her up with Ethan Percy. I think they're perfect for each other."

"Really?" Nina asked, taking a sip of drink. "I don't really see it. But I barely know Halley."

I smiled. "Trust me. She and Percy were made for each other. He's been spending a lot of time talking to her. I think they really like each other. I think they were made for each other."

"Emma, you're a hopeless romantic."

"I have no desire to get married or be in a relationship."

"That's not what I mean. You like watching other people create their happily-ever-afters. You're a sucker for the happy ending and you like helping them along. You love Nicholas Sparks books and cheesy chick flicks. And don't deny it."

I laughed and swallowed some of my wine cooler. "So what if I'm a girly girl? I'm happy."

"You're a girly girl who doesn't want to get married."

"I'm not a feminist," I told her. "I just think that I'm too much trouble for anyone to put up with."

"You're not too much trouble," Nina protested. "You're a good person, Emma. I love you. You're a great friend and I love working with you."

"I drive Andrew insane."

"That's not true. You annoy him and frustrate him at times. But you don't drive him insane. Andrew is a very patient person. It would take much more than you to drive him insane. And you two grew up together."

"Oh God," I sighed. "I hate that phrase."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because it's in _The Philadelphia Story_, and they use it to talk about Dexter and Tracy's divorce. I don't like that being tossed around with my relationship with Andrew. We're just friends."

"I'm not saying that you're anything other than friends. I'm just saying that you two have known each other since diapers. You lived next-door to each other until college. He's one of your best friends."

* * *

Friday night, Halley hung out with my friends instead of going to see dumb little Robby Martin play his silly little show. I know Robby Martin and he's going nowhere. Halley has potential and I want to help her go places. If she dates Robby, she'll marry him and live in Highbury for the rest of her life. She'll have five kids and cheer for them at all their sporting events. And it'll be a good life, but not a great life. She is destined for greatness and the Universe put her into my life so that I could be her guru on her path to fulfillment. And yes, I believe in this. I'm not a Buddhist or anything like that. I just really think that I'm here to help other women through relationships. I should totally write an advice column. Despite the fact that I've never been in a long-term relationship, I know a lot about relationships. I've watched a lot of my friends go through some really tough shit and I know how to help other people avoid the aches and pains of life. I don't like watching people suffer and I like to do what I can to remove suffering from their lives. I think that relationships cause people far too much suffering and I like to help out in that area.

"So, Halley," Ethan said shortly before dinner. "When are you planning on starting your studies at a four-year college?"

"Huh?" she replied popping a cherry in her mouth. "Who said anything about me going to a four-year school? I'm done with school."

"But you only went to community college. You could do so much more with your life."

Halley shook her head emphatically. "I hate school. I'm so glad I'm done with it. And I'm never going back to school."

"Oh come on," he protested. "I bet that if I helped you, you could get into any four-year school you wanted to. Emma, don't you think it's a great plan?"

Since it would encourage his interest in her, I told them I thought it was a great plan. And then they started planning her tutoring schedule. They were going to start with science. "I think you should consider a career in business," Ethan told her.

* * *

"We have great news!" Charlie Weston said when he and Nina came into the house. Charlie, a tall black man in his late forties who always reminded me a bald version of Denzel Washington, was carrying a bottle of wine, a jar of salsa, and a bag of chips.

"You brought medium salsa," Andrew said taking everything from Charlie. "That is great news. I prefer hot but I'll take medium. Miss White Girl Woodhouse only ever buys or makes mild."

"It's not that I don't like medium or hot," I protested. "I just like being considerate of my guests. Halley can't handle eating anything more than mild. And my dad can barely handle mild."

"Well, some of us like to have more than mild," Charlie said. "So you can keep your mild but I'll take mine medium."

I made a face at him. "What's your real big news?" I asked. "It obviously isn't the salsa."

"Holden is coming to visit us," he announced.

"Are you serious?" I gasped. "Nina, you finally get to meet him. That's so freaking awesome!"

Holden Churchill-Weston is Charlie's son; he's twenty-eight. He was born during Charlie's junior year of college when Charlie was dating Gwen Churchill. Gwen was a militant feminist hangover from the seventies who didn't believe in marriage or long-term monogamy. So she and Charlie stayed together for a while and then split while they were in grad school. Charlie doesn't have much contact with Holden, who is named after the main character in Catcher in the Rye. Holden and Gwen have lived in New Mexico for most of the past twenty years.

Nina grinned. "I'm really excited. He sent me an email telling me how sorry he was to miss our wedding. It sounds like he's really excited about coming to Highbury."

"What does he do for a living?" Andrew asked.

"He's an artist," Charlie said. "He's in graduate school in New Mexico and he paints landscapes in his spare time."

"He gives private lessons to underprivileged children too," Nina added.

"Gwen has always worked to impress the importance of helping the less fortunate upon Holden," Charlie explained. "She's had him volunteering in homeless shelters and stuff like that since he was five or six. She's given him everything he'd ever want or need but she likes to make sure that he knows that other people aren't so lucky."

"Interesting," Andrew said but I could tell by the look in his eye that he didn't necessarily approve. He likes everyone to be sincere, genuine and not pretentious. He doesn't like people who pretend to be something that they're not. I secretly think that he doesn't like Ethan.

"I think it's great," Halley says after Joyce has explained to her who Holden is. "I love people who do stuff for others. Like Angelina Jolie or Madonna, I think they're so amazing. I'd love to adopt a baby from Africa just so I could be like Angelina Jolie. She's my hero."

"Nah, Jennifer Aniston is more my type. I can't stand that exotic type," Andrew said. "I like my woman natural."

"Are you saying that Angelina Jolie isn't natural?" Halley asked shyly. "I think she's phenomenal."

"She's a good actress," he said. "But she's nothing like Ingrid Bergman or Audrey Hepburn. She lacks a certain timelessness. Oh, Red, we should watch _Casablanca_ sometime soon."

"Sure thing, Linus Larrabee," I told him. "Pick the time and the gin joint and I'll be there with brownies."

"Linus Larrabee?" he asked. "But I don't think that morals are paintings on walls."

"Who cares?" I replied, sitting on the kitchen counter. "At least I finally found a cinematic nickname for you."

"We're on equal footing then," Andrew said.

"Who the heck is Linus Larrabee?" Ethan interjected.

"Character in the movie _Sabrina_," Nina said. "There are two versions of it. One is from the 1950s and stars Humphrey Bogart and Audrey Hepburn. The other is from 1995 and stars Harrison Ford. The thing about morals being paintings is from the 1995 version."

"Great scene," Charlie said. "I love the bit about the world's only living heart donor."

"I've never seen it-either version," Ethan said.

"Me neither," Halley admitted.

"Oh man, you two are missing out on a seriously amazing movie," Andrew said. "We've got to fix that soon."

"Em, do you still own both versions?" Nina asked.

"Sure thing," I said. "But I'd say only conquer one at a time."

"Harrison Ford!" Charlie said. "I can't stand William Holden."

"Then why'd you name your son Holden?" I asked him.

"Catcher in the Rye, Emma Elizabeth," he said. "It's Gwen's favorite book. I've told you this a million times. I doubt that Gwen has any clue who Bill Holden even is. She's not much for movies."

I laughed. "Charlie, is Gwen a hippie?"

Nina snorted and then covered her face with her hands.

"Well, is she?" Andrew asked. "I've always pictured her as this tree-hugger with unshaven legs and armpits and dreadlocks."

"Gwendolyn Julianne Churchill?" Charlie asked.

"That's her name?" I asked. "Where is she from?"

"England," he said. "Her parents were literature professors at Cambridge. Then she came to the States and I met her at Yale. She stopped shaving when she was pregnant with Holden and hasn't gone back since then. She doesn't have dreads but she shaved her head about five years ago and hasn't let it grow back since then. I could see her with dreads but she doesn't have any."

"Wow," I said. "Is she pretty?"

"She was when we met," he said. "She isn't my taste anymore. She's a bit of a control freak."

"How does that a work? How can a hippie be a control freak?" Andrew asked.

Charlie shrugged. "Just trust me. Wait until you meet Holden. He'll be here for Christmas."

"I can't wait," I said eagerly and I noticed that my eagerness was not reflected in Andrew's face.

The following Monday, we started themed weeks. Ratings went up and the network was thrilled. I was thrilled. Andrew was thrilled.

And then the network decided that we should ask Joyce's niece, Jessie Fairfax, to be a guest chef for a week and help us with Vegetarian Week in mid-October. I hated to agree to it but I had to. I can't stand Jessie but Andrew thought it was a great idea for everyone. And it made Joyce happy. So we were doing it.

But I can't stand Jessie Fairfax. I had no clue how I was going to survive a week working with her.

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I am not Jane Austen. I doubt that she would approve of everything I am doing-especially the swearing. But I am really trying to make the best possible modernization of Emma that I can.

* * *

I spent my spare evenings knitting, crocheting, and enjoying my father's company. I was currently in the process of making a blanket for my sister's unborn baby girl. The baby was due in late October. And due to my stupid contract negotiated by the always wonderful Andrew and my agent, I couldn't go visit Ava until Thanksgiving weekend. But Andrew and I were planning on going down to Washington that weekend. My dad refused to come with us because "airplanes are highly unsanitary and unhygienic." And Dad is redundant.

But Uncle Andrew and Aunt Emma, who is frequently called "Auntie Em" by dear Uncle Andrew, will be visiting Jack, Ava, Carson, and Baby Girl Knightley. And it will be a great trip. Sure, it'll be short-only Wednesday through Sunday. But it'll still be good to see our family, especially the new baby. My sister was due any day now and we were just waiting for the phone call from a probably very tired Jack telling us that the baby was here. My dad thought they should name the baby Daniela after my mother. I thought they should name the baby Isabella because it's a pretty name. Andrew didn't care. He said it was up to Jack and Ava and since they'd already named their son Carson and their cats Chloe and Riley, he trusted them to come up with something equally unique for their new baby girl. I protested that Carson was a name with character and Andrew was just jealous of his nephew.

My sister was due October 19, the same week that Jessie Fairfax was due to arrive for her guest appearance on my show. I wasn't looking forward to it. For one thing, it meant a week of Andrew's jokes about vegetarians. And Joyce would be fawning over Jessie constantly. That would be unbearable and Andrew would make more jokes than ever about it. But he wouldn't do it publicly; nope, it would happen in my office when it was just the two of us. Andrew likes Joyce but he can't stand her at times. And then he vents to me because that's what you do with your best friend.

* * *

On October 4, Andrew walked into my office. "Ethan wants you, not Halley," he pronounced.

"What the hell?" I replied looking up from my laptop. "She was talking to him about going out for dinner this weekend the last time I saw them."

"Yeah but you're going to dinner with them. It's not a one-on-one thing."

I sighed. "I want them to get together."

"And she wants to date Robby Martin."

"She can do better than him."

"Emma, she isn't you. Don't hold her to your ridiculous standards. If she wants to date a guy like Robby, let her. He's a good egg. I like him and that's saying something. She's twenty years old and she's allowed to try new things. I know you don't like him but I do. So let go."

"Andrew, let's be serious. You don't know Halley and you don't really like Ethan. You're not seeing how amazing he could be for her. You know and like Robby. You're biased."

"Biased? You want to talk about biased? Okay, we can talk about biased."

"Don't you raise your voice at me, Andrew," I yelled.

"Good god," he muttered. "You're awful, absolutely awful. You have to be right all the time. You have to have everyone's undying love and support all the time. You have to be the center of the universe ALL THE FUCKING TIME. You're sick. You're disturbed. And you're biased. You want to be right about this damn thing. You want to sit at the head table at another wedding reception smiling and telling everyone how you engineered the match when you've never engineered a fucking match in your entire life. You're not a matchmaker. You're a pain in the ass busybody who has to be right all the fucking time."

I'd never seen him like this before. And I was scared. Okay, I was a little turned on too but mostly scared and very defensive. "You're wrong. I've made matches. You just can't wrap your head about it because you're too busy attacking me for not being as perfect as you think you are. You expect me to be just as goddamn perfect as you think you are."

"Oh that's pathetic. I don't expect you to be perfect. I just want you to be a better person. Respect other people. Let them make their own fucking decisions."

"People need help. They make mistakes. And then they get hurt. I don't want to watch Halley get hurt. She's young and innocent."

"And she can handle getting hurt," he snapped back.

"No she can't!" I protested. "You don't know her like I do."

"You've known her for two months," Andrew said. "Emma, two months is no time at all. Get over yourself and let her date Robby if that's what she wants. Stop being a control freak."

"I'm not a control freak. And I don't appreciate being called one."

"I call things as I see them. And you're a control freak. So loosen up."

"I can't let people get hurt or make mistakes!" I told him.

"Then you don't know how to live life," he replied. "Because, as Westley said in _The Princess Bride_, 'Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says otherwise is selling something.'"

"You're wrong."

"Oh good god, you are pathetic. I'm leaving. Come talk to me when you're ready to be mature and act your age not your shoe size."

As he left my office, I yelled, "I'm not acting like an eight-year-old" at him.

* * *

Andrew would only speak to me for professional reasons after that. I'd thought that surely it would die down after a day. I wouldn't be the one to take the first step towards peace but he could. He was mature enough for that. I didn't have to do all the work in our relationship. He could be a man and admit that he was wrong. I'm not a control freak. Ethan isn't interested in me; he's interested in Halley. Why else would he always be sitting outside my office talking to her? I glared at Andrew every time I saw him. And he just ignored my glares. It was like he didn't care that we weren't talking. We'd been best friends for over twenty years and now he could just abandon our friendship without a second thought just because he thought I was a control freak. I couldn't be that bad.

So I focused my attentions on ignoring Joyce's delight over her niece's impending arrival and instead trying to get Halley and Ethan together. I just knew they were right for each other. He was helping her prep to apply to Eastern Michigan University as a transfer student. It was great. She was doing something with her life. I was glad she was my secretary but I wanted her to do more than just that. I wanted her to marry a great guy like Ethan and if she had to go to college to do that, then so be it. It wouldn't hurt her to grow up a little and step outside her comfort zone. I'd done that in starting my TV show. And now it was Halley's turn. And really, it was Ethan's turn as well. Ethan hadn't done much living outside of the box. Most of the people in my life hadn't done much living outside the box. What did Andrew know about taking risks?

* * *

"Did you and Andrew have a falling out?" Joyce asked me the Friday before Jessie's arrival. "You two haven't spoken to each other in weeks."

"We're both just busy," I told her. "It's nothing big."

"Are you sure?" Halley asked as she came in with a stack of phone messages. "I thought I heard you two screaming at each other one day about a week and a half ago. And now you won't talk to each other."

I sighed. "We're not fighting."

"Well, that's obvious," my assistant said. "You two haven't spoken for more than two minutes in the past while. You can't fight if you're not speaking."

"But are you mad at him, dear?" Joyce persisted. "I don't want Jessie to be coming into an environment that isn't healthy emotionally. It's not good for her inner Chi. I don't want her to get hurt."

"She won't get hurt," I protested. "There's no tension between Andrew and me."

"Except of the sexual variety," Nina muttered as she joined us.

I moaned. "Oh shut up, Nina. That's a load of horseshit and you know it. There is nothing between us but air."

She rolled her eyes. She's been my best friend since kindergarten or something like that and she's just standing there rolling her eyes at me.

"Emma Woodhouse, someday you will have to grow up and admit that you feel something more than friendship for Andrew Knightley."

"No I won't," I protested, crossing my arms and stomping my foot.

"Are we three today?" she asked.

Without thinking, I stuck out my lower lip at her and stomped my foot again. "No, I'm a mature, responsible adult."

"Yeah and you're sure acting like it right now," Nina replied.

I'm pretty sure I saw Andrew walking by and laughing at me. He would-the asshole.

"I'm leaving," I said.

"Oh and that's really mature too," my best friend chided as I walked off to my office.

"Halley, I don't want to be disturbed until further notice," I called as I walked away. "No phone calls, no visitors, nothing; I'm going to be reading."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, I was watching videos on YouTube. It wasn't quite the same as reading but it sure as hell was relaxing. And then there was a knock on the door. "Emma, I know you don't want to be disturbed but your father is here and he says he needs to speak to you immediately," Halley called.

"Tell him I'm busy."

"Emma, I know you far too well to believe that. I'm your father. Now let me in."

I sighed. "Daddy, not now, I'm tired and stressed and I don't want to be bothered."

"It'll just take a minute," he called back, opening the door a crack and sticking his head through.

"Has Ava had her baby yet?"

"No," he replied.

"Then it can wait until I'm done in here."

"Darling, you're watching clips of _ALF_ on YouTube. You have time to spare a few minutes for your old Dad."

"Daddy," I sighed. "I'm tired and stressed."

"And you're fighting with Andrew. I'm sure you're right but you two need to work things out."

"Dad, it's nothing big."

My dad came into the room and sat down opposite me. "I heard you two fighting last week. You forget my study is just above this room. I know you two aren't speaking to each other."

"It's nothing," I protested as I paused the video. "I'm just tired and stressed and he's tired and stressed and we spend too much time together and we need a break and it's really going to be fine when we both get some time to recollect ourselves. We both just needed a break from each other. We'll be back to normal soon."

"Emma, he's been your best friend since childhood."

"Andrew and Nina are my two best friends. I need more Nina and less Andrew right now."

"If you insist," he sighed throwing his hands up in the air. "Emma Elizabeth, you are impossible. You truly are your mother's child. I want you to be happy but I don't want you to hurt your sister's brother-in-law."

"Oh piss and bother," I declared angrily. "I don't care! Andrew and I are just having a spat. It won't affect Ava or Carson or Jack. So just calm down, Dad; you're getting too stressed and too worried."

"I want my daughters to be happy."

"And I am happy."

He sighed. "You tell me you're happy but I'm still worried about that fight I overheard."

"It was nothing, Daddy."

"Andrew was swearing at you. Should I talk to him about that?"

I sighed; my dad was too much, too concerned, too protective. "No, it was nothing. Just leave it alone. It will blow over. Daddy, it's nothing, really. I promise."

He sighed as well. "If you insist, Emma, but let me know if I need to talk to him."

"I will, Daddy. I will."

He kissed my forehead and patted my cheek. "I just don't want my little girl to get hurt," he said and then he left.

And I wanted to scream. The fight had been over something simple. And now it was eating up my life.

* * *

"Halley, what do you think of Ethan?" I asked her later that day.

She shrugged. "He isn't as cute as Robby. And he can't play the guitar."

"But he's helping you with all of this stuff so you can apply to Eastern."

She shrugged again and bit her lower lip nervously. "Emma, did you go to a four-year college?"

"No, you don't need to do that to be a chef. I just went to a culinary arts school."

"So why do you want me to go to a four-year college if you didn't?"

"I think it'll be good for you," I replied, smoothing my skirt. "It will expand your horizons. You've lived in small towns in northern Michigan your whole life. You need to move outside of the box you live in."

"I'm happy here," she said. "And you've never lived anywhere except here either!"

"I went to culinary school in Chicago."

"For two years," Halley replied. "How much did that expand your horizons?"

"A lot," I told her. "I saw things and did things that no one would ever dream of doing here in Highbury."

"But you still came back here."

"I couldn't leave my father," I told her. "He can't be left alone. He gets very depressed."

"Okay," she said.

"But back to Ethan, he is a great guy."

"He's kind of pompous. And Andrew thinks he likes you. But you think he likes me."

"He does like you. Why on earth would he like me? I don't want him to like me. I don't want any guy to like me. But you, you and Ethan would be great-even perfect-together."

"Why is that?" she asked skeptically. This girl was developing a backbone and I wasn't sure that was good for my plans.

"I just see Ethan as a good, strong, independent man who would be very good for someone like you."

"Emma, he's nice and all, but I'm only twenty years old. I'm not quite ready to get married to just anyone yet."

"But you're interested in Robby."

Halley sighed as if to tell me that I was being an idiot. "Emma, Robby Martin is not just anyone. He's amazing. He's like my dream guy or something."

I looked at her. I'd never heard her so sound passionate when talking about Ethan. "But how do you know that Ethan isn't your dream guy?"

"He has nothing in common with James Marsden," she replied as if it was awesome.

"And Robby does?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes; I felt the way I do when I'm talking to Andrew's thirteen-year-old cousin. "Emma, I know you mean well, but Robby is a really great guy. He's tall, dark, and handsome. The only guy I've ever met who even remotely compares with him is your Andrew."

"He's not my Andrew. Don't listen to Nina."

"Oh whatever, you're hopeless."

"Halley, I'm not looking for a boyfriend or a husband. I'm not interested in that kind of relationship."

"What kind of girl are you? How can you not be interested in guys?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I've just never been interested in dating or marriage or any of that. I'm kind of like a hermit or something I guess."

"A hermit who wants to help other people into relationships," she teased.

I laughed. "I like making people happy."

"Okay but you shouldn't forget to make yourself happy too."

I hadn't had dinner with Andrew in days. Things between us were just too tense and awkward. And that was his fault. He did the swearing. He insulted me. I was just defending myself.

* * *

Nina came into my office around five while I was drinking my eighth cup of coffee that day. Maybe I am an addict but the stuff tastes good-especially with hazelnut creamer. "Hey, honey," she said sitting down opposite my desk. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," I replied, smoothing my gray skirt for what seemed like the twentieth time that day. "I'm fine."

She rolled her eyes at me; everyone was doing that to me. "Emma, I've known you for a long time and when you act like this, you're upset. So spill-now."

"Am I a bitch?"

She gasped and shook her head of dark brown curls.

"Are you saying no?" I asked quickly.

And then Nina sighed. "Emma, you aren't a bitch."

"Thank God," I sighed.

"But you are really pushy and bossy at times. And I can see how other people would perceive you as bitchy. But I'm not calling you a bitch. Who called you a bitch?"

"No one," I said. "But Andrew called me a control freak and said I wouldn't let people live their own lives and he's wrong and I need to prove it to him. He doesn't get that people are stupid and they make mistakes and I have to help them and protect them."

"Good god, you are unbelievable. You're not God, Emma. You are aware of this, aren't you?"

"Of course I know I'm not God! I'm not stupid."

"I wasn't implying that you were stupid. I'm merely saying that I understand how people might think that you are a control freak."

"Andrew says that I need to let other people experience life and pain. He said that I can't protect everyone and that I can't keep them from experiencing pain because supposedly life is pain or some bullshit like that. He pulled it from _The Princess Bride_. He would, bastard."

Nina sighed and I knew she was doing that thing where she counts to ten so she doesn't just start screaming at me. She thinks I don't know that she does it. But I've heard her muttering "one…two…three…" under her breath before. I looked at her and she sighed. "Emma, he's one of your best friends in the world."

"Yeah, well, he clearly doesn't want that position anymore. He says I need to stop playing at being a matchmaker. He said that I didn't get you and Charlie together."

She shrugged. "You need to talk it out with him. He's just concerned about you and he doesn't want to see you get hurt or accidentally hurt someone."

"But I'm working on Ethan and Halley. I think they'd be great match. Don't you?"

"Maybe," she said, but I knew that look on her face. She wasn't too sure about it.

"Andrew says that Ethan is interested in me, not Halley. But that can't be. I don't want him to like me."

"Honey, liking someone isn't about what you want or about what anyone else wants. I've liked guys who weren't interested in me and I've had guys who were interested in me but I didn't want to give them the time of day."

"Well, I don't like that. It shouldn't be that way. Emotions are a waste of time."

"You don't really think that. You just don't like the idea that Ethan might not necessarily like the girl you want him to like."

"Oh stop being all maternal on me. I don't need it. I'm a big girl. I can handle my own problems."

Nina sighed and was probably counting to ten again. "Honey," she began slowly.

"Oh stop calling me honey. It's not my name."

"You know what, Emma? Forget it. I'm out of here. You clearly aren't interested in what I have to say. I'm leaving now and I'll see you on Monday."

"Wait," I said as she walked away.

"What?" she asked without turning around.

"When is Holden coming?"

She shrugged. "It's not really clear. But he thinks he'll probably come for Christmas. He isn't sure when he can get away from his current project."

"Let me know when you know. I want to meet him."

"I do too," she said and then she left. And I was alone with my coffee and my thoughts and a lot of cookbooks.

* * *

A/N: Please review. It really motivates me. It's nice to know that people are reading the story and I like to know what you think. I like feedback.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I do not own whatever it is that you recognize from Jane. Also, someone asked me if in the book, Mr. Knightley's first name was Andrew. No, it is George. But I felt that George was too old-fashioned for my story, so I changed it to Andrew. And Jane Fairfax is supposed to be Jessie although I apparently mistyped it on one chapter. I'll get that fixed at some point soon.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

* * *

Andrew Knightley was really starting to remind me of Rhett Butler. It wasn't because he was handsome-which he, I will begrudgingly admit, is. And I'm not saying that I was Scarlet O'Hara to him. No, I'm simply saying that I felt as though his general attitude towards me could be summed up as "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." Jessie arrived at my house at eight o'clock in the morning on the third Monday of October while I was drinking my third cup of coffee and talking to Nina about Ava. "I just want to see pictures of my niece."

"She has to be born first," Nina replied after taking a sip of her own coffee. "And you have seen the ultrasounds.

"I know," I sighed. "But I want her to be born so I can see her and hold her and spoil her rotten."

"Nina, Emma, Jessie is here!" Joyce announced, interrupting our conversation. "Come greet her. She hasn't seen you in forever and she so wants to meet you."

Jessie Fairfax was tall and slender with light brown hair and bright blue eyes. She was wearing a light pink dress over a pair of skinny jeans. And she looked adorable. She always looked adorable. That was one of the things I hated about her. I think that people think that she is prettier than I am and I can't stand that. I like being the center of attention and she's going to ruin that. I'm not the only star of the show for the next week and I'm not quite comfortable with that. I like that the show is mine. Growing up, I had to share everything with Ava. And now I have something that is wholly entirely my own. Call me selfish. Maybe I am.

But I smiled at Jessie. "It's great to have you here with us. I'm so excited for Vegetarian Week."

"Me too," she replied with a genuine smile. "I love sharing my passion for living a healthier, more organic lifestyle with others. And your show is a great opportunity to share. Being a vegetarian isn't just a choice in regards to food. It's a way of life."

"I'm sure," I told her.

"Emma, you really should consider vegetarianism. It would do you a world of good."

"I love chicken too much."

She glared at me. "But think of those poor innocent little chickens."

"Yeah, they were born to die. We all die. And what is the purpose of a life of a chicken if not to die to become my chicken cordon bleu?"

"But you need to cleanse your body of all the toxins that are in most chicken you buy at the store nowadays. Unorganic foods are going to kill you, Emma."

"Like I just said, everyone dies."

"But you'll die younger. And what good will that do you?"

"I'll have been happy and have enjoyed nice dead animals every Thanksgiving."

"Now girls, let's not argue," Joyce interrupted. "Why don't you both agree to disagree?"

"Sounds great," I said.

Jessie smiled. "I hate arguing. It's so awful."

"Jessie, Andrew wants to see you in his office as soon as possible," Nina spoke up.

"Oh, Andrew Knightley, he's here?" Jessie said suddenly. "I completely forgot about that. I need to go. Where is his office?"

"Make a left out of the kitchen and it's the last door on the right," I told her automatically.

And she left along with Joyce. "Peace and quiet," I sighed.

Nina shrugged. "I really don't get why you don't like her."

"She annoys me," I replied. "I can't explain it. It's like nails on a chalkboard to me."

"Her voice?" my friend asked.

"No, it's like her whole existence never ceases to annoy me."

Nina shook her head. "Emma, you act like you have to be the center of attention "

"No I'm not!" I protested despite the fact that I'd earlier been thinking about my desire to be the center of attention.

She sighed. "Emma, you're sharing the spotlight for a week. You can handle it. You're a big girl."

"I know that," I told her. "I'm not annoyed that I have to share the show with her. I'm annoyed by her general existence."

"Grow up, Emma." And then Nina walked away. What was Nina's obsession with thinking that I was immature? I'm an adult but sometime I think my friends forget this even though they went to preschool with me.

* * *

That day we made vegetarian stuffed peppers, a salad with tofu, and a dessert that used honey instead of sugar. It was decent. It definitely wasn't the greatest meal of my life or a spiritual revelation. But I liked it. My dad didn't like but was good enough to not mention that in front of Jessie or Joyce or anyone else. Nina didn't say anything but I knew she'd eat just about anything. And she's always been interested in things that are different. But Andrew hated it. He was putting on a "happy face" but he wasn't enjoying it. Andrew could never be a vegetarian; he eats hamburgers at least twice a week.

In fact, he brought me a hamburger and left it on my desk at some point in the afternoon with a note that said, "I thought you could use some real sustenance."

I laughed and wondered if this meant that our fight was over. And then I ate the burger. It was fabulous, much better than Jessie's meal. Being a vegetarian might be healthier but there's something about the happiness that nice, chewy dead cow can bring. That sounds awful. But that's what a hamburger is.

* * *

And later that Monday, Jack Knightley called me to tell me that my sister was at the hospital and in labor. "She's progressing pretty rapidly and they're expecting the baby to come quickly," he told me.

"Great," I replied. "Let us know when she's here."

"Will do," Jack said. "And tell your dad. But try to keep him from worrying. She'll be fine."

I laughed. "Jack, nothing I could ever say or do would keep my father from worrying. I think he secretly enjoys worrying."

"There's something wrong with that idea," my brother-in-law said with a sigh. "But let him know. And tell Andrew. He'll want to know. And I know you two are close."

So Andrew hadn't told Jack that we were fighting or weren't speaking or whatever the heck it was that we were doing. I guess that meant that he wasn't taking this as seriously as I was. Or it wasn't as important to him. I was confused.

* * *

My dad did not take the news with a grain of salt. He was immediately filled with concerns for Ava and the baby and Carson and Jack. I wasn't sure how any of this could really affect my nephew's health but my dad found reasons to fear. Anything could happen. "You just can't trust most doctors today," he told me. "How does Ava know that her doctor won't hurt her or the baby?"

"Ava trusts her doctor. She came highly recommended."

"A female doctor?" my father asked.

I nodded patiently. "Ava likes her and trusts her."

"But she's a woman. What does she know about delivering babies?"

"Quite a bit, I would imagine. She has four children of her own and has been in practice for close to thirty years."

"But still, she's a woman."

"She's a gynecologist," I replied. "And this is the twenty-first century. Women are allowed to be doctors and deliver babies."

He shook his head. "I don't know. Emma, I don't like feminists."

"Dad, she's not a feminist necessarily. She's just a woman working to earn her way in the world. I don't do anything less or different."

"But you'll get married someday and then you'll take a break."

"Mom didn't do that," I protested. "She kept working after she got married."

"And it killed her," he told me.

"Cancer killed her."

He huffed. "If she hadn't worked so hard, it wouldn't have. A married woman should relax and enjoy the comforts of her husband and children."

"Is this the eighteenth century?" I asked him. "Women have jobs outside the home. It is all right. It doesn't kill them. We're not delicate fainting fluff-balls who only think of clothes. I like working. And I will keep working as long as I can."

"Emma, don't say such things. You will find a man who can stomach your spirits."

"I plan on being a working wife and mother," I protested.

"But what of your poor husband?" my father asked.

"Dad, you're turning into Mrs. Bennet from Pride and Prejudice. I will only marry who can live with me. I'm not going to change for anyone."

He sighed. "I don't want you to change. But I want you to think of your own feminine delicacy."

"I don't have any of that," I told him. "But I need to talk to Andrew now. I'll see you at dinner."

* * *

"I am going to strangle my father," I announced walking into Andrew's office. "I love him but the man is impossible."

"Emma, could you please wait a moment?" Andrew asked. And then I realized that he was having a meeting with Jessie.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I'll be in my office when you're free."

And then I turned and ran to my office. Why was Andrew meeting with Jessie? Didn't she annoy him as much as she annoyed me? How could he stand talking to Miss Perfect? "I don't want to be disturbed," I told Halley. "But if Andrew comes by, let him in. I need to talk to him. If my father comes looking for me, tell him I'm dead."

"He'll know I'm lying," she replied softly. "And I don't like lying."

"Well, then tell him that I'm busy. Just don't let him in. I need some peace."

"Emma, are you all right?" she asked me softly.

"I don't know."

"Ethan was looking for you earlier."

"Do you know why?"

Halley shook her head. "He just said he needed to talk to you."

"How are things going with him?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I'm still not sure about him. I really think I like Robby Martin better. He just fits my taste more. Ethan doesn't care about music at all."

"He doesn't?" I asked. I didn't know that.

She shook her head. "He said he'll listen to what's on the radio or something but it's just noise."

"Well, you'll just have to improve him because you, Halley, are too good for any Robby Martin."

And then I went into my office before she could protest.

* * *

I read in my office for an hour or more, waiting for Andrew to come. Clearly, he was distracted by Jessie or he didn't think me important enough to remember. But I read without really worrying about it. Andrew might just be being nice to Jessie. And I was more interested in waiting for Jack to call me and tell me that I finally had a niece.

* * *

Halley left around five. Around five-thirty, just as I was heading to the kitchen to make dinner for my father and myself, my cell phone rang. It was Jack. "It's a girl," he said happily. "She's barely five minutes old."

I grinned. "We were expecting a girl. What is her name? What does she look like? Is she healthy? How big is she? How is Ava doing?"

He laughed. "She's beautiful, Emma. I can't wait for you to meet her. And Ava is doing beautifully. She's twenty inches long and about seven and a half pounds. She has dark brown hair and your sister's nose. She is so beautiful."

"Great," I replied. "But what did you name her?"

"Emma Daniela, in honor of you and your mother," Jack said proudly.

"Haha, very funny," I said. "Now what did you really name her?"

"Emma Daniela Knightley," he persisted.

"Jack, stop teasing."

"I am wholly and entirely serious," my brother-in-law replied. "We named our lovely little girl Emma Daniela Knightley."

"I'm honored. And I'm sure my mom would be too."

"Good," he replied. "Now when are you coming to meet her?"

"Thanksgiving," I told him.

"Bring Andy with you when you come."

"I'll try. And have my sister call me when she's up to it. And give little Emma and Carson kisses from their Auntie Em."

"I will," he promised. "Now go tell your dad and Andrew. They need to know."

"I'm on it," I told him. "Talk to you soon."

"For sure," he replied.

"Was that my brother?" Andrew said coming up behind me.

I shrieked in surprise but then nodded. "Ava had the baby. That's what I wanted to tell you earlier. Your brother had just called to tell me that they were at the hospital. And I guess things went quickly because now the baby is here."

"What's her name? They did have a girl, didn't they?"

"Emma Daniela," I replied. "And yes, they had a girl."

"They named her after you? Wow, you must be happy."

I smiled. "I'm just happy that she's here. But it is nice that they named her after me."

"So are you going to visit them soon?"

"I'm still planning on Thanksgiving. You can come with me if you want. That was our original plan."

He nodded. "I'd like that."

"Are we still fighting?" I asked him.

"I didn't know we were fighting."

I rolled my eyes. "You haven't spoken to me in weeks."

"I talk to you," he protested without looking at me.

I sighed. "About work stuff, you only talk to me about the show. And you've been avoiding me and using Nina as a messenger when possible. You're mad at me about trying to get Ethan and Halley together."

"They aren't good for each other," he replied. "She's too young and flighty for him. She's not ready to get married. Ethan is an adult, ready to get married and start a family. And he won't marry just any girl. He will be practical and consider things like childrearing styles and money and age. He may say sweet, romantic things but his heart is much more practical than his words."

"But he's so sweet around Halley."

"He's trying to win you, Emma. Open your eyes. He's being nice to her in the hopes that it will make you fall for him."

"He's so not my type," I replied. "Why would I be interested in him? He's so boring and he annoys me."

"If he annoys you, why do you want your friend to marry him?"

I looked at Andrew for a few moments and shrugged. "You know I've never thought about that. Maybe he should marry Joyce. They both annoy me."

"Your problem is that you're too easily annoyed."

"Yours is that you always have to be right."

Andrew laughed. "Look who's talking. You used to throw temper tantrums if you weren't right all the time."

"I don't anymore," I retorted.

"Yeah, that's because you're too old to throw temper tantrums and you know it."

I stomped my foot and then we both burst out laughing. I shook my head. "Don't you dare say anything about that. I know. I'm immature."

"Good," he replied. "Just as long as you know it, we're all cool."

"Do you want to help me make dinner?"

"Will there be meat involved?"

I grinned. "Is the sky blue?"

"Jessie is a great girl but I could never be a vegetarian," he told me. "I love dead cows too much."

"Exactly how I feel," I admitted. "I like Jessie although I think Joyce talks her up too much. But I could never live that whole organic, vegan life. I'm just not cut out for it."

He laughed. "I know you're not. You love hamburgers too much, like me."

"They have veggie burgers."

"No," was all he said to that idea. I guess that meant it wasn't the time to tell him that we were making mushroom burgers on the show the next day. I wouldn't put a temper tantrum of his own past him. I know how much he hates mushrooms. He claims that we should never eat fungi for any reason. I try to use my culinary training to argue with him but he'll have none of it. He's so uncultured sometimes, and yet he works for the Food Network. It's a little weird sometimes.

* * *

A/N: Please review. I desperately want to know what you thought of it.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I don't own the story. I do love my reviewers.

Also, apparently, somehow I gave Ethan Percy about ninety different names. Well, he's Ethan Percy, not Elton Percy or Phil Elton. I'm fixing it all. I'm also fixing all the Jane Fairfax stuff to Jessie.

* * *

I survived Jessie's guest appearances. And she created great divisions in fan chat rooms. Some people thought she was the greatest thing to happen to the show since me, of course. And others thought she was the worst thing ever. And then there was huge debate over whether or not she should get her own show or not. And then she'd supposedly been flirting with Andrew "LIVE **AND** ON AIR" to quote SweetiBabi88 on the chat boards. Apparently, we had several fans who really thought that Andrew and I were "made for each other like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie" according to one poster while another called us the "Jim and Pam of the Food Network." Admittedly, these schemes had been flying around the chat rooms since our first episode, but sometimes it felt a bit ridiculous and surreal.

"Did you know that Jessie is delaying destiny?" Andrew asked me as he walked into my office about a week after the end of her guest appearance on the show. She was still in town visiting her aunt and grandmother, but we rarely saw her. Actually, Andrew and I were both so busy with work that we rarely saw anyone other than each other, Halley, Nina, Ethan, and the rest of the people involved in the show. We frequently found ourselves working until ten or eleven at night. And Andrew was sleeping in our guest room because all he did at his own apartment was sleep and he didn't think it was worth his while to drive back and forth between our house and his apartment just so he could sleep there for five or six hours.

I looked up at him. It was six o'clock on a Friday and I was exhausted. "What?" I said. "How is she delaying destiny?"

"So apparently, Jessie is blocking the two of us from realizing how desperately in love with each other we really and truly are. Our destiny is to be together and nothing can keep us from each other-no matter how hard Jessie tries. And they're calling her all sorts of names."

I went onto our website and started looking at the forums. "Oh dear god," I said. "Andrew, they're calling her the Yoko Ono of the Food Network."

"I'm not John Lennon."

"How can she break up a couple that doesn't exist?"

Andrew shrugged. "Search me. I have no clue. I don't understand how these girls think."

"They're always seeing things that aren't there," I told him. "It's how girls work. We get better with age but we'll never completely get over it. We're usually hopeless romantics. And stop smirking."

And then he laughed. "You're probably right. Now come on. Let's make dinner."

"I'm tired of food. I hate food. I spend too much time with food. All I ever do is make food or think about making food."

He laughed. "You still need to eat. I'll cook. You can just drink wine and watch me."

"I guess," I said slowly. "I'm just tired of all of this."

"You need a vacation," he replied. "Now get up from behind that desk and com with me."

I pulled my hair up into a mini-ponytail; my hair wasn't long enough for a real one. And then I sighed. "I'm tired, Andrew. I want my glasses."

He smiled. "Go upstairs. Take out your contacts; put in your glasses. I'll be in the kitchen waiting for you."

"Thanks," I said, finally standing up and smoothing my tired, wrinkled green skirt over my legs.

"Not a problem," my producer and best friend replied. "You're working too hard, Red. You need a vacation. I'll talk to the producers."

I didn't even argue with him about calling me "Red." I was too tired.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, I came downstairs wearing my glasses, black pajama pants, and a gray sweatshirt with MICHIGAN embroidered across the chest in navy blue. "You look comfy," Andrew said as I climbed up on the counter.

I smiled and poured myself a glass of wine. "I am. And Daddy is out for the evening. It's just you and me."

"He goes out?"

I laughed. "Yeah once in a while, it's mostly just with Dr. Parker. You know how much my dad loves his doctor."

Andrew nodded. "Can I get in on that wine?"

I poured him a glass and he took a long sip. "This stuff is good." Then he looked at me. "Red, we work too much. Let's run away to Cancun."

"I think that fan girls would love that."

"Damn fan girls," he muttered. "They're killing me, Smalls."

"You've been saying that for years now and I've still never seen the movie."

"If we were at my apartment right now, we could watch it with dinner. But we're here. So I vote that we watch _X-Men_ instead."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "I'm tired. I don't want to watch that."

"Hugh Jackman and James Marsden," he said, waving a spoon in front of my face.

I hit his spoon and peanut sauce splattered on my face. "I want to watch a Cary Grant movie. I'm craving Cary Grant."

"Okay, let's watch _The Philadelphia Story_."

"Okay but you can't call me Red during the movie. That's Cary's line and Cary's line alone."

"I'm jealous of Cary."

"It won't kill you," I replied.

* * *

So we watched the movie and ate Indonesian peanut sauté, which actually happens to be one of Andrew's specialties-for no known reason. It was great. I hadn't just relaxed and done nothing in ages-especially not with Andrew. But with the fight over, we could just relax and be ourselves. And I needed to relax after the past week.

"So, Thanksgiving, are you ready for it?" Andrew asked me shortly after we started the movie.

"On the show or in real life?" I replied.

He shrugged. "Either, I guess."

"I'm looking forward to going to see Ava and Jack. I miss them and I can't wait to see little Emma."

"We have a niece," he said. "And she looks adorable. But it will be great to see her. And I can teach Carson to play football."

"That I have got to see."

He grinned. "He's two and a half. I bet we can make some serious progress over last Christmas."

"I think he understood that he was supposed to throw the ball."

"Yeah but that was about as far as he got."

I smiled. "I'll try to help you this year."

"Awesome," he replied as my cell phone started ringing. He glared at me. "You're watching Cary. Ignore it."

"It's Halley," I told him. "I can't ignore her. She has a date with Ethan tonight."

"Then why is she calling you?"

I shrugged. "Maybe she needs to tell me something exciting."

He snorted as he stopped the movie. "You know what I think of matchmaking."

* * *

I left the room and went into my office. "Hey, Halley, what's up?"

"I'm sick," she said. I could hear how stuffed her head was just from that one sentence. "I'm really sick. I just sneezed all over Ethan on our date and he told me to get out of his life."

"I'm sure he didn't say that."

"Emma, all he did the either-ACHOO!-date was talk about you. He asked me so many questions about you. And he told me all these things that he likes about you. But he barely noticed me except when I sneezed."

"That's weird," I replied. "I can't imagine why he would do that. He must be having an off day."

"Emma, I don't think he likes me at all. I think he's using me to get to you."

I sighed. "Halley, I think he likes you."

"Maybe he does but he sure likes to talk about you."

"I'll talk to him tomorrow night before Nina and Charlie's party. I'll get everything straightened out for you." Nina and Charlie were having a housewarming party the next night.

"I won't be at the party. I'm too sick."

"Well, I'll talk to him at the party. I'll get everything straightened out. You guys will be back to where you were before tonight in no time. Just rest, sweetie; you're probably over analyzing tonight and thinking it was awful because you weren't feeling well."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe my cold was just messing things up for me. You're probably right. And he is a good guy. It would be great if you could talk to him. And I'm really sad I'm going to have to miss the party tomorrow night."

"That sucks," I replied. "We'll miss you."

* * *

After a few more minutes on the phone with Halley, I went back into the living room to Andrew and the movie. "Halley's sick," I told him as I sat back down.

"That sucks. I hate being sick."

I laughed. "Andrew, when you're sick, you are the world's worst patient. You complain and you try to go back to work too soon."

"If you're referencing the pneumonia incident of 2007, just shut up."

"Oh come on," I said. "You really needed to rest more than you did."

"I didn't contaminate anyone else," he protested.

"No, but you would have gotten better faster if you had stayed home longer and rested more."

He sighed. "Do we need to rehash this again?"

"Nope, just admit that I'm right and you're wrong."

"Women," he muttered before restarting the movie.

* * *

The next afternoon, Ethan called to offer my dad and me a ride to the party at the Westons'. "You're on my way," he explained. "And it would just be easier for everyone."

"Thanks," I replied. "It's a really nice offer. But Andrew is taking us."

"Let me know if I can ever help you at all," he replied. "I was going to take Halley but she's sick, poor thing. She has an absolutely awful cold."

"She told me last night. I took her some soup and Kleenex earlier today."

"Oh, Emma, you shouldn't have. You might have gotten sick. And where would the show be without its fabulous host?"

"I'm fine, Ethan. I have a great immune system. I'll see you tonight."

"Are you sure?" he persisted.

"I drink three glasses of orange juice a day," I replied. "I'm fine. And I'll see you tonight. Good-bye."

I don't dislike Ethan. And I think he'd be great for Halley. But sometimes he reminds me just a little too much of Joyce. He's clingy and I can't do clingy. I like strong, capable, independent, and responsible. I need someone who doesn't NEED me, just wants me. I'm not a very emotional person. I just don't see the point of advertising myself to the world. I do see the point of advertising my show to the world. But my own life is private. I don't really want to get married. I don't need a husband. And my dad needs me to take care of him. I just don't have time for a husband or even a boyfriend.

* * *

The party at the Westons' was small but great. Holden still hadn't come into town yet but they were expecting him for Christmas. Ava and Jack were coming home for Christmas with Carson and little Emma. But Andrew and I were going to see them over Thanksgiving and I was so excited about that.

But the party was great. Except for Ethan, he followed me everywhere-offering to get me food or more wine or some water or a napkin or to pick my nose for me. Okay, he didn't go that far. But I could totally see him offering to do it. "Emma, I'm just concerned about you. It's getting chilly now that it's fall. I don't want you to get cold."

"Ethan, I'm fine," I told him. "I'm wearing a sweater. I'm doing great."

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I could ask Nina to turn up the heat."

"I'm great," I replied firmly. "Ethan, don't worry about me. I'm a big girl. I can ask my best friend to turn up the heat in her house if I get too cold."

"But I just want to treat you with respect. I know that someone as special as you deserves to be treated with the utmost respect. You're a princess, Emma, and you deserve to be treated like one."

"Ethan, don't talk like that. I'm Emma Woodhouse, just Emma Woodhouse. Yes, I have my own TV show. But that doesn't make me a princess."

"But every woman is a princess and deserves to be treated as such."

I sighed. "Ethan, go find someone else to treat like a princess."

He put his hands on his hips. "But I don't want someone else. I want you."

I stopped and looked at him. "What are you talking about? I thought you wanted to date Halley."

"Halley, why would I date Halley?"

"You've been going out on dates with her for weeks now, practically since she was hired."

He laughed and snorted. "Ha, Halley is nothing to me. What could she be to me when you're around? You are my sun and my moon. You are all I desire. I want you. I want to marry you and people the world with little Ethan and Emma Percys."

"No," I said firmly. "Ethan, I'm interested in you. I thought you were interested in Halley."

"No, I was just trying to get in your good graces. I thought if I showed compassion or whatever to your assistant, you'd get it that I was interested in you."

"Taking my assistant out to dinner never told me you were interested in me. It told me tat you were interested in her."

He gulped. "Oh, I didn't think it would do that."

I patted him on the shoulder. "Well, it did. Now, I'm going to talk to Charlie. I'll see you later."

And then I walked away from him and went to Charlie. He'd mentioned earlier in the evening that he wanted to tell me something exciting about Holden's upcoming visit.

* * *

"His mother is letting him come and stay with us indefinitely," Charlie told me when I asked him about his news. "He's coming for Christmas and he'll be here as long as he wants."

"What about school and his private students?" I asked.

"He's taking breaking from his students and he's actually finishing school in December. He wants to know what life is like here in Michigan."

"He does know how cold Michigan winters are, doesn't he?"

Charlie laughed his deep, booming laugh. "He's never been to Michigan in the winter to my knowledge."

"You might scare him," I told him. "You know what Michigan winters are like. They can be murder."

Charlie nodded. "I've warned him. But he really wants to meet Nina and spend some time with us."

"I'm excited for you. It really sucks that he hasn't been able to get up here before and meet Nina before."

"Gwen is very protective of him. She doesn't like letting go of him."

"He's an adult, Charlie. He can make his own decisions."

He shrugged. "You don't know Gwen. She and Holden depend upon each other. She doesn't really let me play much role in his life. She says that he doesn't need me. I'm hoping that he and I can build a stronger relationship while he's here."

I smiled. "That would be great."

"He is my son after all," Charlie said. "He's not just Gwen's son."

"I know."

"I know you know but he needs to know. He barely knows me. He's a grown man, I'm his father, and he barely knows me. And I barely know him."

That conversation made me grateful for the time that I had with my mother when she was alive and for my dad. He drives me nuts but he's a good man.

* * *

"Make sure that Ethan doesn't try to give me a ride home," I told Andrew when we both happened to be alone just outside the bathroom. He was on his way out and I was on my way in.

He gave me a funny look. "What's going on?"

"You were right. He wasn't interested in Halley. He was using her to get to me. He's a total creeper; it's gross. And you were right. So please don't say 'I told you so.' This feeling inside is bad enough. How on earth am I going to tell Halley?"

He smiled sympathetically. "I'm really sorry. And I promise I'll take you and your dad home. Just let me know when you're ready."

"He's probably ready right now," I said. "He doesn't like parties much and just came because he loves Nina and Charlie."

"I'll go talk to him about it."

"Let me take care of my business here and say good-bye to Nina and Charlie."

He nodded. Right before he walked away, he looked back at me. "Hey, Em, would a hug help?"

I nodded and almost ran into his arms. He held me close as I clung to him like he was the only solid thing in my life. "It's going to be okay, Em," he whispered in my ear. "Halley will get over it. And you'll be fine. I'll tell Ethan to take a vacation or something. You'll be fine."

"I just hate being wrong," I admitted. "I don't want to hurt Halley either. But I really, really hate it when I'm wrong about stuff like this."

He smiled and shook his head. "Oh Emma, you're absolutely ridiculous."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, I was home and trying to figure out the best way to break the news to Halley.

* * *

A/N: Please review.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I do not own the recognizable. And I appreciate, love, and thank my reviewers. Without you, this probably would never happen. I know I make you guys wait too long for updates. I blame my senior year of college for this.

* * *

After learning the truth about Ethan, I longed to call Andrew and ask for his advice in talking to Halley about the whole thing. But I couldn't. Andrew had warned me about Ethan. And I screwed it all up. On the upside, I had at least until Monday to figure out how to talk to Halley. On the down side, it was Sunday and Monday was only a day away. Sorry, Annie, but sometimes the fact that tomorrow is only a day away is NOT a good thing. "Ava, I just don't know what to do," I told my sister when I finally got up the guts to call her at seven-thirty that night. "I know that Andrew's right and I shouldn't have led Halley on like that but usually my gut instincts are better than this. Usually, I'm right about who likes who."

"Em," my sister said slowly. "I hate to tell you this, but it's a bit ridiculous. You shouldn't have told Halley that you thought that Ethan liked her."

"But I thought he did!"

"I know, sweetie, but you were wrong. You should just tell people things like that when you're not sure. Here, you ended up being wrong and Halley is going to get hurt. We all make mistakes. And you need to accept that."

"You sound like Andrew."

"I live with his brother. Jack and Andrew are a lot more alike that you'd realize. And the Knightley bluntness starts to rub off on you after a while."

I laughed. "I just want things to be simple. I like being right."

"I know. You've always wanted to be right. It was like your favorite thing when we were kids. You used to throw temper tantrums when you weren't right."

"Oh come on!" I protested. "I was not that bad."

Ava laughed. "Emma, you were awful. Mom used to worry about taking you out in public. You always had to get your own way and be right all the time."

I sighed. "So what are you saying?"

"Eat humble pie. Be honest with Halley about what happened. And tell her that you made a mistake. It's not really THAT hard."

I made a noise in my throat and my sister sighed loudly. "Emma, are you growling at me?"

"No?" I replied, confused.

"Oh don't lie to me, Emma Elizabeth. I recognize the sound of your growl when I hear it and you're growling at me. Grow up. It's not that hard to tell someone that you misunderstood Ethan. I'll even tell you what to say. It'll be really simple."

* * *

"Halley, I'm sorry," I began early Monday morning, somewhere around my second cup of coffee. "But I have to tell you something horrid. Ethan is an asshole." That was my sister speaking even more than it was me. "He was playing with both of us, trying to get to me through you. He's an ass and I'm sorry I ever encouraged you towards him."

"What happened?" she asked.

"He asked me out rather awkwardly," I replied. "He was awful and repulsive and proved himself to be not at all what I had thought he was. He really isn't the kind of guy you would want to be with. I think he's disgusting."

"Will he be back at work today? Will we have to see him?"

"No, Andrew is making him take at least two weeks vacation."

"Andrew knows about this?" she asked, blushing.

I smiled. "Oh, sweetie, don't worry. Andrew won't tell anyone. He's safe."

"But he's the boss. And he's Andrew. I don't want him knowing that kind of stuff about me."

"Don't worry about it. He'll probably never say a thing about it to you."

"But I don't want him knowing things like that about me."

I sighed. "Sweetie, it'll be fine. Don't worry about it. It's just Andrew."

"That's easy for you to say. He's not your boss. He's your friend. It's different. He's my boss and I don't want him to know things like that about me. I don't want him to know who I like. It's embarrassing."

I smiled. "Don't worry, Halley. Andrew won't tell anyone about it. Other than dealing with Ethan in relation to me, he'll probably forget about it. He'll handle the professional angle and forget about the personal."

"Are you sure? Are you sure he won't use it against me?"

"Never," I replied. "That's not Andrew."

"Oh," she said. "But he seems so grown-up and serious and harsh."

"He is grown-up but he's not harsh. He's a good person."

"He makes me nervous," Halley replied.

I looked at her, surprised. "Why does he make you nervous?"

"I don't know. But he's scary."

I didn't laugh at her. I have to say that.

* * *

But after we were done with that day's episode, I went to Andrew's office. He was sitting at his desk listening to classical music. "You're a nerd," I told him.

"I think that was supposed to be an insult," he replied without really looking up at me.

"Halley told me today that you're scary and you make her nervous."

"Thanks," he said, finally looking up at me.

"You were supposed to ask me why she thinks that."

He laughed. "Emma, you are ridiculous."

"Don't you want to know why Halley thinks you're scary?"

"Probably because I'm the producer and I'm powerful and I'm older than she is?" he guessed.

"How did you guess that?"

Andrew laughed. "Em, it's kind of obvious that she's scared of me. And the most logical reason is that I'm powerful and older than her."

"You stole my thunder."

He laughed again. "Sorry, but I kind of already knew that."

"You never told me."

"Do I have to tell you everything I know, Red?"

I looked at him. "You're my best friend, Andrew. We're not supposed to keep secrets from each other."

"Umm, I'm sorry, Red, but I'm a boy and boys are allowed to keep secrets from girls."

"Like what?" I demanded with my fists on my hips.

"We don't have to tell you who we're attracted to."

"Why not?" I said angrily.

He shrugged. "It's not always about you, Red. I know you don't like that but life is not always about you."

I glared at him. "I'm not as self-centered as you'd like to think I am."

"Okay," he said but I could tell he was rolling his eyes internally. Andrew does that when I'm annoying him with my girlishness. I also think he thinks he's smarter than me. But he's a good friend. He sticks with me even when he thinks I'm being stupid. He's the brother I've never had. And he's my sister's brother-in-law so I guess that makes him even more my brother.

"Andrew, do you think I'm dumb?" I asked him.

He looked up at me with confusion in his brown eyes. "Why would I think you're dumb?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. But sometimes I wonder if you think I am. Like, you don't like it when I'm trying to make matches."

"I think you're silly when you're matchmaking. But I don't think you're dumb. You never could have made this show work if you were dumb."

"But what about the situation with Ethan?" I asked. "I completely screwed that one up."

"You made a mistake and an honest one. He was trying to get Halley's attention, just not for the reason you thought. He's a scumbag. Don't worry about it. Halley's young; her heart will heal. And you need to stop being so hard on yourself."

I glared at him. "I just want to get everything right," I told him. "I like things being the right way."

"And you like being right."

"Why does everyone tell me that?"

"Who else tells you that? That's my line."

"Ava," I replied, throwing myself into a chair across from his desk.

He smiled. "My brother is rubbing off on his wife. I'm so proud. Ava is really becoming a Knightley."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "She's still a Woodhouse."

"But that's not her name legally anymore," he replied. "She's a Knightley now."

"A Knightley in name but still a Woodhouse in spirit," I replied.

"I don't know about that. Her remark says that she might be turning Knightley now."

"She was a Woodhouse for twenty-two years."

"But she'll be a Knightley for the rest of her life and hopefully that'll be a lot more than twenty-two years."

"You're annoying."

"That's why you love me, Red."

"Shut up," I said as I rolled my eyes and curled up in his chair. It was a chilly day and I was tired. "Can I just stay here all day? I'm comfy."

"I think your job requires you to do other things in other places."

"That's okay," I replied. "I'm happy here. Halley can just take my calls and answer my messages."

Andrew laughed. "Emma, as your producer, I don't think I can allow that."

"I thought you were my friend first and my producer second."

He shrugged. "It's a Monday. I'm having an off day. We all have off days."

"Are you saying that I have to go back to my office and do my work?"

He nodded. "Now scram. I have things to do."

"Oh come on, Andrew. I'm your friend."

"Red, I have things to do. We can talk later."

"Dinner and a movie sometime this week?" I asked

"Am I your only social life?"

I laughed as I stood up. "No, but you're single and this is a small town. It's hard to find someone who is single who will hang out with me."

"There's always Halley."

"Blech," I replied.

"You love her."

"I do but she can't drink. You can give me wine."

"And you whine at me."

"Oh ha-ha-ha, you're so funny."

* * *

Halley moped all week. She wore all black every day and tried to scowl or make angry noises whenever anyone asked her if she was becoming Goth now. I made her all of her favorite foods and promised her that there were good men out there. "I just don't know about men anymore," she told me on Tuesday. "How could Ethan do something like that?"

"He's a jackass," I replied as I made her a chocolate cheesecake. She was a chocoholic. And she hated coffee. I never understood people who hated coffee. It is the nectar of the gods.

"Not every guy is like Ethan," I continued.

"Well, there's no way Robert will ever be interested in me again. Sure, he's still nice to me but I can just tell that he hates me for turning him down. He thinks I think I'm too good for him."

"You are too good for him, Halley. You're gorgeous and intelligent and funny and you don't need some guitar-playing barista. You can do more than that."

"He's so cute with his shaggy hair and his eyes, they remind me of a puppy."

"Are you looking for a husband or a pet?"

"Neither," she replied. "I just want a boyfriend. I'm sick of being alone."

"You're not alone. You have friends."

"Friends are great but I don't feel complete without a man in my life."

I sighed. "Halley, you need a man like a fish needs a bicycle."

"What would a fish do with a bicycle?" she asked.

'That's the point!" I said with a bit of exasperation in my voice. "Fish don't need bicycles. You don't need a man."

"I want a man though," she protested. "I hate being alone. It's so sad and lonely and pathetic."

"I've been single since my senior year of high school."

"That's different. You're not like most women. You have your own TV show. You're Emma Woodhouse. You're amazing. You're like Wonder Woman or something."

When I'm a superhero, I'm using that as my tagline. "Emma Woodhouse…she's amazing. She's like Wonder Woman…or something." I'll make heavy use of ellipses. And as a superhero, I won't let Andrew call me "Red" ever again.

* * *

"Did you know that Jessie applied for a job at your mom's restaurant?" Joyce asked me a few mornings later.

"Nope," I said. "But I don't have much to do with hiring these days."

"Oh you don't? We were hoping you could put in a good word for her."

"I can try. My dad and I still own the place. But Reynaldo is much more in charge of the day to day of the place."

"Can you at least talk to him?"

"Yeah, sure," I replied. "But she does know that the place serves meat and that's a non-negotiable for us."

She looked at me. "It does?"

I nodded. "I cook with meat and so did my mom. So it's natural that Daniela's would do the same."

Joyce nodded and looked at me. "Are there any vegetarian restaurants in town?"

"Joyce, you've lived here your whole life."

"But Mother and I never go out for dinner. I don't know these sorts of things."

"No, there aren't any vegetarian restaurants in town. This is a small town with not a lot of demand for vegetarian stuff."

She bit her lower lip. "But Jessie needs a job and she lost her old job in Toledo. She tried to find a job near her father's family in Arizona and you'd think she could find one. But no one was hiring."

"I'm not sure where she should look," I replied. Highbury is a small town and there isn't much demand for a vegetarian chef.

"Maybe she could open her own place!" Joyce said eagerly.

I shrugged. "It's a definite option. It'd be a lot of work and a lot of money but if she wants to do it, it'd be great."

"It would cost money?"

Joyce doesn't really pay attention to much beyond her own job and her life with her mother. So I tried to be patient. Andrew is always telling me that I need to be more patient and willing to accept other people's weakness and faults as well as my own. And he really emphasizes that part about me. He thinks I have too high of an opinion of myself and I need to be more realistic.

"Maybe we could bring Jessie on the show again," I suggested. "And we could try to get her some more publicity."

Sure I can't stand Jessie but I can't let people know that. I'm Emma Woodhouse. I'm amazing. I'm practically perfect in every way.

* * *

"Emma, dear," my father said when I came into his office that evening. "I've been thinking about your trip to visit dear Ava over Thanksgiving and I've been wondering who will take care of me."

"Don't worry about anything, Dad," I told him. "I already talked to Nina and Charlie about it. They're going to invite you over to their house for Thanksgiving Day. And they're going to come visit you every day. And Joyce will stop by to see you several times. And I'm going to cook up several meals in advance and freeze them for you so that you won't have to worry about preparing any food for yourself except for breakfast. And you can call me whenever you need me."

"I just don't like the idea of you going away."

"I'm leaving on Wednesday and I'll be back on Sunday. I'll barely be gone at all."

He still looked concerned and I sighed. "Dad, really, you'll be fine. And I'll be fine."

"Why do you have to leave me?" he persisted.

"I'm going to see Ava and Jack," I replied. "They have a new baby and I want to see my niece. She's almost a month old."

"You can see pictures of her anytime. And they're coming to visit for Christmas. I just don't like the idea of you leaving me."

I sighed again. "I want to see my sister, her husband, my nephew, and my niece. They named her after me. I want to meet her. And I'm not traveling alone. Andrew is coming with me."

"Why did Jack and Ava have to leave Michigan? Why did they leave Highbury? Can't people just say where they're born?"

"You moved around when you were younger," I reminded him.

"But then I got married and I realized the importance of home and family."

I sighed. "Jack needed to go where he could get a job. So they live in Virginia."

"But I want them in Michigan. I want my grandchildren near me."

"That's not possible right now." Honestly, sometimes my father acts like a selfish child. He might as well throw temper tantrums like Carson does when he doesn't get his way.

"Emma, you won't understand until you're a parent."

"Well, that's not likely to happen any time soon. So, I guess I'll just persist in my belief that they should stay where Jack has a job."

"Emma, you just don't understand me."

I did not say "Dad, you sound like a thirteen year old girl." But I wanted to. I really wanted to. Sometimes, I forget that my dad is seventy years old because he acts his shoe size, not his age. But he clings to the way he wants things to be. I guess that's part of growing older; you're allowed to cling to the way you want things to be.

* * *

A/N: Please review! I hope the next chapter will be up faster than this one was but I make no promises.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I do not own Emma. I am well aware that I rarely update. I do love reviewers. Enjoy another chapter!

* * *

Chapter Eight

* * *

The Monday before Thanksgiving, Jessie and I made a vegetarian Thanksgiving dinner, which was actually pretty good. There was no tofurkey involved, to Andrew's great sadness; he'd wanted to mock tofu as much as possible. And there was tofu on set because our main dish was tofu and pumpkin-filled ravioli which was actually really good. Our other side dishes were pretty traditional but with some really creative variations. We had a butternut squash soup, vegetarian sage stuffing, cranberry sauce, vegan mashed potatoes, pumpkin bread, and vegan pumpkin pie. It really was great. Jessie drove me nuts with her constant comments about how "being a vegan isn't just a way of eating but a way of life. And science has shown us that the vegan lifestyle is clearly superior to the omnivorous way of life. It is healthier and vegans live longer."

"And being a vegan is more boring," Andrew told me later in the day when we were eating meat lovers' pizza together. "I'd rather die younger and be happier than live to one-hundred-and seventy-five and eat only flavorless tofu."

"Not all vegan foods are bad," I told him. "The meal we made on the show today was actually really good."

"Someone has been drinking the Kool-Aid," he teased.

I took a sip of the pumpkin beer in front of me and then stuck my tongue out at him. "I'm not saying I'd become a vegan-ever. I'm just saying that I don't mind eating the food once in a while."

"I just think tofu and that kind of stuff are gross. You know she never eats sugar?"

I nodded. "I made pumpkin pie with her today. I am well aware of her anti-sugar stance. She does use honey however. And that pie was good."

"It had tofu in it."

"You just hate tofu."

"That's a definite possibility."

I laughed. "Andrew, you're not usually a picky eater except when it comes to tofu."

"I dislike tofu for the same reason I dislike tonic water. It has zero taste. I have taste buds for a reason."

I smiled. "Are you ready to go to Washington?"

He laughed and grinned. "I can't wait. We get to meet little Emma Daniela Knightley."

"My namesake," I said with a smile.

"Our niece," he added. He picked up his beer and laughed.

"What?" I asked.

"That sounded like we were married."

"Never," I said quickly.

"You're saying you'd never marry me, not even if we were the last people on earth?"

"Maybe then," I replied. "I'm not trying to hurt your feelings. But you know how I feel about marriage."

"You don't need a man," he said. "I've heard this speech a thousand times."

"I'm sorry," I said. "Andrew, it's nothing personal. I just don't want to get married. I like being independent."

He sighed. "You've always been like this; it shouldn't surprise me. You were never the girl who needed a boyfriend or any of that."

"Cooking is my boyfriend. The show is my family."

Andrew laughed and shook his head. "And what will you do when you don't have the show anymore?"

I shrugged. "I can take over the restaurant."

"I'd rather have a family than a TV show or a restaurant."

"So who are you going to marry?"

He shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "You're the modern-day Yenta, Emma. I'm not about to tell you."

"Why not, don't you trust me?"

"Not with my love life," he admitted.

"Just because I screwed up with Halley," I began to say.

"No, it's not that. It's just that I'm also independent and I'd like to figure this one out for myself."

"But we're best friends."

"I know," he said. "But I'm a guy and you're a girl. Somehow, I feel that if you know what girls I like, it's a conflict of interest."

I sighed. "But I want to know! I like knowing things."

"That's okay. You don't need to know everything, Emma. And don't go get yourself in tizzy about this. I love you. You're my best friend. And I respect you greatly. But I'm not going to tell you who I like. That's really none of your business."

"I'm basically your sister."

"But you're NOT my sister," he said.

"Andy," I said using a nickname that he'd discarded in high school. "You're acting like I'm going to fall in love with you and be heart-broken when I realize that I'm not the object of your affections. And that's really cocky of you."

"Or I just don't feel like telling a girl everything about myself. Emma, you're the cocky one if you think that I'm automatically going to think that you're in love with me. I don't think that. I know you far too well to ever think that you'd fall form. You're too determined and stubborn to ever find your way into a relationship with someone like me."

"You're obnoxious."

"Whatever you say, Red," he replied.

* * *

Tuesday and Wednesday, I did a two-part episode in which I cooked a traditional Norman Rockwell worthy Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings. It was delicious. And then after we were done at work, Nina drove Andrew and me to the Detroit Metro Airport to fly to Washington, D.C to see Jack, Ava, Carson, and little Emma. I took Dramamine before we left and slept the whole flight. I get horrible motion sickness when flying and I always take Dramamine and a sedative. This time, I took the sedative earlier in the day before we left for the two hour drive to the airport so that I would be more alert when we arrived in Washington. The downside to this was that I was insanely tired at the airport and I think some of the people who worked there thought I was drunk. But Andrew just let me sleep on his shoulder while we waited for our flight.

* * *

We arrived in Washington around six o'clock. When we got to baggage claim, we found Jack waiting for us with Carson in his arms. Jack looks a lot like his brother. He's tall with dark brown hair like his brother. Unlike his brother who has gray eyes, Jack has hazel eyes. Carson looks like his dad way more than he looks like Ava. He has dark brown hair and big hazel eyes. He was wearing blue jeans, a navy blue Michigan sweatshirt, and an orange jacket. He looked like such a little man.

"Annie-Em!" he squealed when I walked over to them. I laughed at his attempts to say "Auntie Em," which no doubt my sister had been coaching him on all day.

"Hey, buddy," I said letting go of my suitcase and taking him from my brother-in-law's arms. "How's life?"

"I'm happy!" he replied. "You and Andy are here."

I kissed his cheek. "We're happy too. We're glad to be there."

"Some of us are just glad that Auntie Em is awake," Andrew said.

"Did she take sedatives again?" Jack asked.

His younger brother nodded. "I know she gets really sick if she doesn't but it's still funny."

"She could buy Dramamine with caffeine."

"She doesn't like that option," I said. "She thinks it's weird."

"She is speaking about herself in the third person," Andrew said to Jack.

"Jack finds this highly unusual and recommends that it ceases and desists," quoth Jack.

I laughed. "You're mocking me."

He shrugged. "What else would you expect of the Knightley brothers?"

"You're the little sister we never had," Andrew added.

I punched him. "I thought I was your best friend."

"Little sisters can be best friends," he replied with a wink and a smile.

I sighed. "You're ridiculous."

He grinned. "I know. That's why you love me."

"Can we go home?" Carson asked. "Mommy makes dinner and I'm hungry."

"Of course," I told him.

"Do you both have all your luggage?" Jack asked.

"Yep," Andrew said. "We travel light."

* * *

My older sister doesn't look much like me. She's shorter than I am and has light brown hair-quite unlike my own auburn hair and five feet, nine inches of height. I take after Mom; she takes after Dad in everything but height. Our dad is a tall guy; our mom was average height. Ava is about the same height Mom was. But she's still a lot shorter than me. When we got to her house, she was in the kitchen cooking. The baby was in a swing, watching everything astutely. "Emma!" she screamed, dropping her spoon into the pot she'd been stirring and running to me.

I hadn't seen my sister in four months and once we were hugging, I didn't really want to let go of her. But after squeezing her and squealing for about three minutes, I let go-mostly because I wanted to meet my niece and namesake. When I let go of Ava, Andrew was holding Carson, and Jack was holding the baby.

"Do you want to hold her?" he asked.

I grinned and nodded. I held out my arms and my brother-in-law put the five-week-old infant in my arms. "Hi Emma Daniela," I said softly. "I'm your Auntie Emma. Your Uncle Andrew will try to get you to call me Auntie Em, but it'll be okay. You can call me Auntie Emma. I like that more. And I love you, princess. You are so beautiful."

"Someone is besotted," Andrew teased.

I kissed baby Emma's forehead and smiled again. "Are you whipping out your SAT words to impress your niece, Andrew? Ava, she's perfect."

Jack stroked his daughter's cheek. "That she is. She's the most beautiful baby girl ever born."

"Not that you're biased or anything," Ava joked.

Her husband laughed. "Say what you want; you probably love her more than I do-if that's at all possible."

"After nine months in my uterus, I can probably love her more than you can."

"I hope she isn't as stubborn as her Auntie Em is," Andrew said with a smile and cocked eyebrows.

I stuck my tongue out at him. "For your sake, I hope she is. But for Ava's and Jack's sakes, I hope that she isn't."

My sister laughed. "I remember when you were a baby. You were trouble."

"Didn't Mom once describe me as 'hell on wheels'?"

She nodded. Ava is four years older than me and remembers my childhood well. She knows millions of embarrassing stories about me and on the off chance I ever do get married, she's so not going to be my matron of honor. There is no way I'd ever let her tell one of the stories she'd consider telling at my wedding.

Jack laughed. "Em, I remember you as a child; you were ridiculous. You were everywhere all at once."

"I know but look at me now. I'm normal now."

"Is she wearing Chucks?" Jack asked.

Andrew nodded. "Would she wear anything else ever?"

"She hasn't since middle school," Ava said. "She started her rebellious period at thirteen and has been wearing Chucks ever since then."

"I wore heels at your wedding!" I protested.

"What did you wear to your senior prom?" my sister asked. "Jack, start setting the table. We need to eat tonight. But Emma, seriously, what shoes did you wear to your senior prom?"

I sighed. "I actually wore flip-flops."

"I remember that!" Andrew said as he put Carson down and took some silverware out of the drawer. "You went to prom with Jonah Crosby and you wore a green dress with matching green flip-flops with glitter or sequins or something like that."

"And you went with Amanda Turner," I said.

"And hated every damn minute of it," he replied. "That prom sucked like hell. The food was crap. The music sucked."

"You're so right," I said. "The food was disgusting."

"And there was no classic rock."

"None," I said. "It was all crap pop music."

"Oh 2001," he said. "It wasn't exactly a year known for its devotion to Kansas."

"Most years are not really known for their devotion to Kansas."

"They were kind of a 1970s thing."

"You two are ridiculous," Ava said.

I laughed. "Nah, you just don't understand us."

"Little sister, I have never understood you. You're far more eccentric than I'll ever be."

"Just because I wear Chucks with skirts and I torture Andrew as often as humanly possible doesn't mean you have to tease me incessantly."

"Who's teasing? I'm just stating a fact."

"Can we eat?" Carson said.

* * *

Carson went to bed shortly after dinner and little Emma did not. "She's a night owl," Jack told us.

"Like her aunt Emma," Andrew teased. "The woman is barely alive at nine in the morning but she can stay up until two in the morning."

"I'm fully alive at nine in the morning!" I protested. "That's when I shoot my show."

"You're only functional at all because of coffee."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Red, you drink coffee like a heroin addict mainlines."

"Are you still calling her 'Red?'?" Jack asked.

Andrew laughed. "I'll call her that until the day she dies."

"What are you going to do when her hair isn't red anymore?" was Ava's question.

He shrugged. "I'll probably just keep calling her 'Red.'"

"You will not. You know I hate the nickname."

"You always say you hate it but I don't buy it. I think you secretly love it."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, that's why I complain about it all the time."

"You want us to think that you hate it but inside, deep down, you love it."

"It must be so far deep down that I don't even know about it."

Andrew smiled. "Maybe you need to get more in touch with your inner self."

"I disagree."

"You just like disagreeing with me."

Ava shook her head. "Can you two please stop acting like love-sick teenagers?"

"Love-sick teenagers?" I repeated. "Ava, think about who you're talking about. Andrew and I aren't interested in each other."

My sister sighed. "Maybe not but you're sure as heck acting like you're attracted to one another."

"Sexual tension thick enough for a knife, anyone?" Jack asked.

Andrew threw a throw pillow from the couch at his brother. "We're just friends. She's the little sister I never wanted."

"You're mean," I said. "But I love you like a brother."

"Hey, you're the one who insists that we're like siblings. I disagree but if you want to be siblings, you can be the little sister I never wanted."

"They grew up together," my sister said to her husband.

"Andrew, she's quoting your favorite movie."

"I know, Red," he replied. "I know. I think it's adorable."

I laughed. "For the record, you're not Cary Grant to my Katharine Hepburn."

"Just as long as I'm not the Spencer Tracy to your Kate Hepburn, I hate Spencer."

* * *

The next morning I got up around nine o'clock-wonderfully late for me. I drank a cup of coffee while eating blueberry muffins and talking to Ava. Jack, Andrew, and Carson were in the backyard throwing around a football. "Sometimes I think that Jack wanted a son just so he would have someone who would watch sports and play sports with him."

I laughed. "You moved him to Fairfax, Virginia. That's a long way away from Jack; he needs someone to play with."

"Boys always need their toys and someone to play with."

"So that's why you had a son first and a daughter second," I teased.

Ava laughed. "I had to placate my husband. Now, we can have seven daughters."

"You really want seven daughters?"

"No but I love teasing my husband. Jack gets so agitated whenever I tell him we're going to have seven daughters and name them Emma, Felicity, Anna, Joy, Claire, Maya, and Abigail."

"You've got it all planned out," I said.

"And it freaks him out."

"When we were kids, Andrew always struck me as more paternal than Jack."

My sister shrugged. "Jack is a great dad. He loves Carson and Emma and he's really good with them. Sure when he was in high school, football was way more important than anything else. But he's grown up."

"I guess I haven't seen much of Jack since you guys moved down here."

"Your show seems to keep you pretty busy."

I nodded and took a sip of coffee. "It's weird because I don't really have that much of a social life but I'm always busy."

"You have Nina," she reminded me.

"I have Nina and Charlie and Andrew. And I hang-out with some of the other people on the show. But mostly, it's just those three."

"You're busy with the show," Ava persisted.

"It's eating up my life," I admitted. "I'm working on it from eight in the morning until five or six at night. And then Andrew usually sticks around for dinner so I don't have to deal with Dad all by myself."

"Dad isn't that bad, Emma. You just have to be patient with him and indulge him."

"He's always convinced he's sick and dying. It gets annoying."

She sighed. "Em, sometimes it pays to be cautious. I've called the pediatrician just to be safe so many times since Carson was born. The kids seem to be in great health but I just don't want to run any risks."

"Doesn't the pediatrician get annoyed with you?"

"I'm sure they're used to concerned mothers calling over green phlegm," she replied. "I know Dad drives you nuts but you have to trust me on this one. Be patient. He loves you and he's not trying to drive you insane."

"Ava, he complains to me about his concerns that he might have swine flu and he might have pneumonia when the only problem is that Andrew just put some pepper on his chicken and it made Dad sneeze. He's beyond belief."

Ava sighed. "Em, I know he drives you nuts. You two are very different. But try to be patient wit him."

"Andrew is way better at being patient with him. Some days I think it would be better if Andrew lived with Dad and I lived in Andrew's apartment."

"Bad idea," my sister replied. "You need to live in the same place that you shoot the show. You're not a morning person at all and I'd hate to think what would happen if you had to get up and drive yourself to work every morning."

"After about three cups of coffee, I'm usually fine to start shooting at nine."

"Em, you got up at nine this morning and you're already working on your second cup of coffee this morning."

"Are you going to try to tell me that I'm addicted to coffee?"

"No," she replied. "But that's only because I know Andrew's on your back about it constantly and you don't need that much pressure."

"I'm not that bad."

Ava laughed. "Sweetie, I'm going to count how many cups of coffee you drink while you're visiting me. And then we'll discuss how addicted you are."

"I hate you."

"I'm your sister; you can't hate me."

* * *

A/N: I know; I take forever to update. Here's my defense: I'm a college senior and I'm really busy. I will try to get a couple of chapters up over my break. But please read and review!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Okay, I do not own Emma. That's obvious. And I'm really sorry that it takes me forever to update. I know that many writers say this but I really am busy. I wish I could promise that I would be better about it but I can't.

* * *

Andrew and I had a great weekend with Ava and Jack. And then we went back to Michigan and started shooting our "Advent Calendar" episodes. Each day leading up to Christmas we focused on a different culture's pre-Christmas/Christmas traditions. We did St. Lucy's Day and St. Nicholas's Day. It was a lot of fun. I was going to have Jessie cook a vegetarian Christmas mea a couple of days before Christmas, which would be something new to the show. And Joyce promised me that Jessie wouldn't try to "convert" me to vegetarianism. I laughed that one off knowing that vegetarianism may be a way of life but it's not really what you might call a religion. Spending time around Jessie required a sense of humor and a lot of relaxation in my office. I'd never tell Jessie but I actually do yoga to relax-as well as watching YouTube videos and reading cookbooks. Mock me if you will. But I love my way of life.

* * *

"You're insane," I told Andrew as he tried to explain to me why we needed to watch hockey instead of a movie.

"Dude, it's the Red Wings. I'm not insane."

I looked at him as we made pizza in the kitchen. I didn't know why we were making pizza until he brought up the hockey game. He'd been begging for pizza all week and now on Thursday, the only night of the week when my dad could be depended upon to be out of the house, Andrew wanted to eat pizza, drink beer, and watch hockey. "You're such a dude," I told him.

"I watch chick flicks with you," he retorted. "You can watch hockey with me."

I sighed. "I don't like hockey."

"And I don't like _How to Lose a Guy in 10 Dates_. It's boring."

I looked at him. And he looked at me. I sighed. "Fine, we can watch hockey."

Andrew grinned. "I promise we won't have to do this again until next month."

"No more beer until January?" I suggested teasingly.

"Only if you quit coffee until then," he replied with a smile. Did I ever mention that Andrew has a killer smile?

"No thanks," I replied. "Drink your beer and I'll drink my coffee."

"Someday I will get you to give up coffee."

"Dream on, buster," I replied. "Oh, and you're not allowed to scream at the television during the game. You have to behave like a civilized human being, not a Neanderthal."

He sighed. "You're so demanding, Red."

I shrugged. "I disagree."

"I know," Andrew replied. "You always disagree with me when given the opportunity."

"That's why you love me so much."

"No, that's why you drive me crazy."

I sighed. "I thought we were friends."

He put the pizza in the oven and sighed as he set the timer. "Red, we are friends. But sometimes, you're too girly for me."

I stuck my foot-clad in a purple Chuck Taylor shoe that day-up in the air and grinned. "I wear Chucks. I'm not a girly girl."

He shook his head. "Wearing Chucks doesn't keep you from being a girly-girl when the Chucks are pink and you're wearing them with flowered tights and a pink dress while watching _Sleepless in Seattle_."

I glared at him. "I am not a girly girl."

"You're pouting."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are and pouting is a little girl thing. Stop acting like you're Carson's age."

I stomped my foot. "I'm not two."

And then he burst out laughing at me. Sometimes, Andrew really gets on my nerves.

* * *

Holden Churchill was scheduled to arrive at his father's house a week before Christmas. Only a week earlier, Nina and Charlie had announced that they were expecting their first child in mid-June. They hadn't told Holden yet and cautioned all of us-especially Joyce, who was known for her inability to keep a secret-to not mention it in front of him. I knew, as we all did, that this baby would be the most beautiful baby ever born-or at least in the top ten. He or she would probably look like the offspring of Taye Diggs and Nicole Kidman, according to Joyce. According to Andrew, we should expect "something like the love child of Denzel Washington and Amy Adams." And according to Ethan, who had just arrived back from his "vacation" with a new girlfriend in tow, we were to expect "the spawn of Javier Bardem and Penelope Cruz."

"But they're Spanish," I pointed out. "Neither Nina nor Charlie is Spanish."

"But mixed-race kids usually look kind of Spanish."

"Not really," Andrew said handing me a cup of coffee. He was being nicer to me than usual since Ethan returned. "I can't see Nina and Charlie having a kid who looked Spanish."

Ethan shrugged. "I don't really care what the kid looks like. It probably won't look as beautiful as you all think it will. Babies are usually kind of ugly. I think they usually look like aliens or lizards."

"I'll remember to tell all of your children that," Andrew replied.

"I'm never going to have children."

I raised my eyebrows. "Does Rowan know about that?"

"I don't think so."

I heard Andrew mutter something about honesty being the best policy in relationships but then he whispered something in my ear about Nina needing me on set ten minutes ago. So I went off to the set and Andrew followed me.

* * *

Halley had been practically hiding in my office since Ethan's return three days earlier. Ethan had been pestering Andrew and me trying to convince us that we really wanted to hire Rowan to work for the show. He didn't know what she could do for us but he was sure that she would be the best possible addition to our "little show" ever. She apparently had a degree in nursing but had moved and given up her job for Ethan. She was currently living with Ethan and looking for a job in the Highbury area. Despite Ethan's persistence, I had no idea what she could do for us. She had no skills that were useful to a TV show despite Ethan's convictions that I might occasionally burn myself; I hadn't burned myself in two years at that point.

"I never should have encouraged Halley to like Ethan," I told Nina when we were alone in the kitchen after shooting the morning's episode. "Now I can't get her to come out of my office. I can't even get her to come into the kitchen to say hello to Joyce."

Nina frowned. "Someone needs to fire Ethan."

"I think that's Andrew's job."

"Then tell him to do it. You know he'd do it for you."

"I'm not taking advantage of how close Andrew and I are just because I don't like Ethan."

"Honey, if you tell him the truth here, he won't do this just because of how close you two are. He'll do it because he's a gentleman and he cares about Halley's feelings."

I nodded. "But I don't want to hurt Ethan."

Nina sighed. "The guy is a jackass to your friend and to you, but you don't want to hurt him. Where's the sense in that?"

"I don't know, Nina. I just want things to get better. And I want Ethan gone." And I really wanted Rowan gone. She was constantly roaming around the set giving unwanted advice and unnecessary opinions on anything and everything.

"Then talk to Andrew. He's your producer. And he's your friend."

"Who is Emma's friend?" Andrew said walking in just then. "Emma has friends?"

"Speak of the devil," I muttered.

"You're her friend," Nina told him.

"Are you saying I'm her only friend?"

She shrugged. "I've always considered myself to be her best friend. But you can put yourself on the short-list."

"Thanks," he said. "Anyway, I'm looking for Halley."

"In my office," I replied. "She's hiding from Rowan and Ethan."

"Andrew, you need to find a way to ban Rowan from the set," Nina said. "I keep finding her randomly outside of Emma's office. I think Ethan told her about Halley's interest in him."

"But he conveniently neglected to tell her about his attempts to seduce our lovely Emma," Andrew guessed.

"I have nothing to prove that," I said. "But I would guess that you're right. I'm also guessing that he told Rowan that I pushed him at Halley and Halley at him."

Nina nodded. "Honey, I'm guessing he did everything he could to make himself look like the Greatest Man Alive, make Halley look like the Young Horny Slut, and make me look like the Feminist Bitch from Hell Who Tried to Massacre Ethan's Life."

Andrew patted my shoulder. "Don't worry. Apparently, he also told her that I'm his best friend and we go out for beers every Thursday night."

"You're cheating on me?" I asked. "You're cheating on me with Ethan?"

He shrugged. "I apparently am. I'm very sorry but we can no longer cook together and enjoy our Thursday nights because I have to go out for beers with some jackass whom I can barely stand on my good days. Do you know that I have days when I went to grab that low-life scum-sucker by the throat and strangle him for the way he led Halley on and the way he tried to act like Don Juan with Emma. And Emma, you're way too good for him."

I looked at him. He was angry, livid even. "Andrew, I was never interested in him. I just saw him as the kind of person who might be able to make a nice girl like Halley happy. And I was wrong. I screwed up and way too many people ended up getting hurt in the process."

"I'm not mad at you, Emma. This really isn't your fault. The thing is that I didn't realize until a couple of weeks ago how much of an asshole Ethan is. The guy told Rowan that I'm his best friend. And I can't stand him. And now he wants me to be all buddy-buddy with him. And he told her that he calls me K all the time. K, the fucking letter, he told her that's his nickname for me. So now she keeps calling me K. I hate it. I fucking hate it."

"If it makes you feel any better, she insists on calling me Emmy and says that I should let her guest-host with me for a day like I do with Jessie. She's not Jessie. Jessie, I can tolerate Jessie. Hell, compared to Rowan, I could let Jessie be my best friend."

"Wait, she wants to call you Emmy?" Andrew said. "You've never been Emmy. Over the years, you've been Em, Emma, Emmer, Emerson, Red, and Ungaga. You're just not an Emmy and you never will be."

"Okay, I know that Red started in high school. And I know Ungaga was the name you insisted on using from age three to age eight. And I get Em. But where did Emmer and Emerson come from?"

"Jack and Ava," I said.

"My brother went through this phase were he called her Emerson because he thought it was funny. Her sister called her Emmer when she was little because it was easier for her to say than Emma. Emmer died out a long time ago."

"Back when Jack tried to turn it into Elmer," I finished for Andrew. "My mom put a kibosh on the whole Emmer nickname right then and there."

"In the kitchen with a knife while drinking coffee," Andrew added.

Nina laughed. "So the coffee-addiction is actually genetic?"

I nodded as I took a sip of coffee. "Ava claims that Mom used to drink it while shooting. But she still calls me an addict and says I need to quit."

Jack shook his head. "When will you accept his wisdom?"

"When you buy me a pony," I replied.

"Good Lord, are we eight?"

I laughed and nodded. "Apparently, the three of us never progressed beyond Mrs. Pierce's third grace class?"

"Speak for yourself," Nina replied. "I'm married and pregnant. I'm not in third grade at all anymore."

"Yeah, third graders rarely get pregnant," Andrew told her. "And on that note, I need to go. Ethan told me he wanted to meet with me about a possible position for Rowan."

"He wants me to fire Halley and replace her with Rowan?" I asked.

Andrew nodded. "He thinks that we don't need Halley at all anymore. She's useless and incompetent, according to Ethan and you can fire her. But you need Rowan's precision and drive."

"I need someone with precision and drive to answer my phone, arrange my meetings, and make my coffee?"

"I didn't say it."

"I need someone with a bachelor's degree in nursing to do that same crap?"

He shrugged. "Ethan thinks you do."

"Ethan thought he and I should get married."

"Em, can I fire him?"

I smiled. "You're the boss; I just stand in front of the camera and look pretty."

He shook his head. "You're the heart and soul of the show, Emma. We couldn't do this without you."

"I'll remember that during the Daytime Emmys when I'm thanking you for making this show into what it is and making me the hostess with the most-ess."

"Thank you. Now, can I please fire Ethan?"

"Only if you can explain to him why you're doing it," I replied.

"Because he annoys me, does that work?"

"No," I replied. "He's good at his job. You can't fire someone who is good at his job just because you don't like him."

"I don't like you now. You're not letting me do what I want."

"Oh that's mature."

Andrew sighed. "Usually I'm the one accusing you of being immature."

"We all have our off days," I told him.

"I'm the great Andrew Knightley," he replied. "I'm not allowed to have off-days."

"Stop lying to yourself. You're not really that great. You put your legs on one pant at a time just like everyone else."

"I think you mean put your pants on one leg at a time."

"Probably, but don't mock me. I'm cute."

He rolled his eyes. "That's always your excuse."

"Have you looked at me lately?"

"Yeah, you're wearing olive green Chucks. I didn't know they made those."

I glared at him and he laughed. That was our friendship.

* * *

Friday morning, Andrew came into my office. "So what did you do last night?"

"My laundry," I replied.

"You didn't have girls' night with Halley?"

I shook my head. "She's afraid of me. She thinks I might actually listen to Rowan."

"You're not an idiot, whatever else I may tell you on other days of the week."

"Thanks, K."

"I prefer to be Q."

I laughed. "Can we have a James Bond marathon sometime? Please?"

"Sure, if I can find some time to spend with you," he replied. "Apparently, Ethan and I are really close."

"I'm happy for you. You two can watch the Super Bowl together. I'll go watch it with Jack."

"No you won't. Jack is my brother, not yours."

I glared at him. "If you can't watch the Super Bowl with me, then I'll go watch it with your brother. It's almost the same thing."

"No it's not. Jack and I are nothing alike."

I looked at him and shook my head. "That is so false on so many levels."

"I hate you."

"And that is why Ethan is your best friend."

Andrew glared at me. "You're annoying."

"Thank you," I replied.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Going out to dinner with Halley to prove to her that I'm not trying to fire her," I told him. "You can come with, if you aren't too busy with Ethan."

"I'm trying to be nice to him."

"Monday you were trying to fire him."

"I'm in a better mood today."

I smiled. "I'm so proud of you."

"I drank a glass of orange juice. It's better than coffee."

"I hate oranges."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever, I'm coming to dinner with you and Halley."

"Are you calling me a whatever? Are you calling me the Great Gonzo? Are you saying I have a big nose?"

Andrew laughed. "No, but I vote we have a Muppets marathon sometime soon."

"I'm always game for the Muppets. But I'd rather be Animal."

"Dude, you are Animal."

"That's not a nice thing to say."

He sighed. "You call yourself Animal but you don't want anyone else to call you Animal. What the heck is wrong with you?"

I shrugged. "Generally speaking, I'm contrary to popular belief."

"That explains so much."

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I do not own Emma. And I am well aware of how rarely I update; I'm truly, truly sorry about that. But please review. I love reviews.

* * *

Holden Churchill arrived in our lives a week before Christmas. I was sitting on the kitchen counter eating lunch and talking to Halley when Charlie Weston walked in with the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my life. And then he said, "Emma, this is my son, Holden. Holden, this is Emma Woodhouse and her assistant, Halley Smith."

Holden beamed; he smiled just like Taye Diggs. "It's lovely to meet you, Emma. I've heard so much about you from Charlie and Nina."

"And I've heard lots about you," I replied. "It's great to finally meet the real article."

Halley was just grinning like an idiot. And I mean that in the best possible way. And then she gulped and said "Hi!" Holden just smiled at her and nodded.

"Halley, could you go get Nina for me, please?" I asked her. "Tell her that Charlie and Holden are here."

"Okay," she said before running out of the kitchen.

"She's shy," I told Holden.

He nodded. "She's your assistant, right?"

"My right hand, you might say. Charlie and Nina really have told you all about us."

"You're Nina's favorite topic." There was the Taye Diggs smile again. This guy was dreamy.

I laughed. "It's the privilege of the childhood best friend. We know everything about each other and will quite willingly rattle on about each other for hours on end."

"Nina always mentions you in her emails and last night you were one of the highlights of our conversation."

"Red, I need you!" I heard Andrew's footsteps coming towards us quickly. "Ethan is being, well, Ethan, and I need you to help me with something."

Andrew walked into the kitchen wearing blue jeans and a Michigan t-shirt while Holden was wearing khakis and a burgundy dress shirt; he looked infinitely better than Andrew, who was apparently being the Casual Friday Poster Boy. Admittedly, it was Casual Friday. But still, Holden just looked better. Even with dreadlocks, he looked more put together than scruffy Andrew.

"Charlie!" Andrew said. "What are you doing here?"

"Andrew, this is my son, Holden Churchill. He just got in last night and I brought him over here to meet Emma and you as soon as he woke up."

"Nice to meet you, Holden," Andrew said, extending his hand.

"Great to meet you too, Andy," Holden replied, shaking the offered hand.

Andrew kept smiling although I knew he didn't appreciate being called Andy. Only Jack and I can get away with that-and even then only very special circumstances. Alcohol and extreme exhaustion helped as excuses for our behavior, but the primary one was blood relationship or lifelong friendship.

"So what's the life-threatening crisis?"

"Can I talk to you in private? I really don't want this to be a huge issue."

"It's just Charlie and Holden," I replied.

Andrew sighed. "I know. But this is something I hope I can keep as private as possible."

"My office or yours," I replied. I knew he was trying to avoid stressing Nina out. And if Joyce overheard anything, it would be Official News before five o'clock. I didn't need that.

"Mine," he said. "I like the chairs more."

* * *

"Ethan thinks that we should hire Rowan as a historical expert," Andrew announced once we were seated in his comfortable chairs.

"I thought she was a nurse."

"She took an AP History class in high school."

I nodded. "That makes perfect sense."

"The point is that I don't know how to stop them."

"In the immortal words of Nancy Reagan, just say no."

Andrew shook his head. "That's a dated reference, Miss Woodhouse. You're showing your age."

I laughed. "At least I'm not referencing Mamie Eisenhower."

"Or talking about your experiences during Prohibition, which could ruin your career," he teased.

"Yes, I have been alive for one hundred years," I joked. "I'm Edward Cullen's younger sister."

He glared at me. "I hate the whole damn _Twilight_ phenomenon. I hate vampires."

"You're just jealous."

"Nah, I'd rather spend the rest of my life alone than live one day as Edward Cullen."

I laughed. "You don't want to be glittery and sparkly?"

"I'm a manly man. I play football and eat dirt."

"So what are you going to do about Rowan?"

Andrew sighed. "Don't you know, Nancy Reagan? You're supposed to fix my problems. You're my big TV star."

I sighed. "I'm not Nancy Reagan. I'm Abigail Adams. I just write beautifully and inspirationally."

"Is inspirationally a word?"

"According to spell-check, yes it is."

He smiled; he did not smile like Taye Diggs. But he still has a great smile. It's more innocent than Holden's smile. Holden has the look of experience in his eyes. I like experience. It's sexy in a man. Andrew has an authoritative look more than anything. He seems like he knows what is going on and what he's doing. I don't think it's sexy but I know other people who do. Halley asks me at least once a month why I'm not dating Andrew. I have about ninety reasons why I'm not dating Andrew. Most of them involve the fact that we've known each other since kindergarten and Ava and Jack are married; it would just be weird if we got married.

* * *

Saturday night, we hosted a party to celebrate Holden's arrival as well of that of Jack, Ava, Carson, and little baby Emma. My dad doesn't like hosting parties but he prefers it to going out. He won't even go to the restaurant that my mother opened and I still own and operate-but I think that has more to do with his grief than agoraphobia. I don't think he's actually agoraphobic. But he doesn't like going out of the house unless he has the whole situation planned out perfectly. Instead, he likes it when we host people. And since I love to cook, we host parties. Ava is a great hostess, so it was better to do something like this with her in town. We were having a small family Christmas at home later on but for now, we were hosting the annual Woodhouse Family Christmas party-a tradition that had begun when my mother was alive. My dad might not be very social but he is very keen on traditions and there was nothing that would keep him from continuing this tradition.

We had to invite everyone involved with the show-which unfortunately meant we would have to have Ethan, Rowan, and Halley all in the same place at once. And I foresaw only disaster stemming from such a combination. Andrew had advised locking Ethan and Rowan up somewhere. But I pointed out that they would probably notice that. He dismally agreed.

Rowan and Ethan skillfully placed themselves in the center of the family room upon their arrival and loudly talked of their happiness together. Meanwhile, Jack tried to talk to Holden and Ava was attempting conversation with Nina-on the subject of children, of course-but it was difficult to think over Rowan's exultations over the kindness of Ethan in attempting to find her a job on the "little TV show that Andrew and Emma have going on here."

Andrew growled at that statement. "A show that airs on the Food Network is not a little show. You're a real star."

"It's okay," I whispered in his ear. "I know that she's a pain in the ass. I just have to pretend to like her."

"How long are you going to do that?"

I shrugged. "I guess until you find a way to get rid of Ethan."

He glared at me. "Aren't we Miss Maturity?"

"What?" I asked. "You don't like him either."

"But I try to be nice to everyone. You only pretend to be nice to people all the while snickering behind their backs."

"You're annoyed at Rowan right now."

Andrew nodded. "Yes, I'm annoyed. But that doesn't mean that I won't be compassionate towards her."

"Does that mean you're going to give her a job?"

"No," he replied. "I've told Ethan and Rowan that the network cannot find room in the budget for such a position."

"So it's over; they'll leave us alone, right?"

"Alas, Red, it's not. Ethan wants us to fire Halley and replace her with Rowan."

"I won't stand for it," I protested.

"Stand for what?" asked Holden, coming up next to us.

"Injustice," Andrew replied. "Our Emma is a social activist."

"And Andrew is a liar," I added. "I just don't like the way Ethan and Rowan are behaving right now."

"They're a bit noisy, if you ask me. Are they always like this?"

I laughed and Andrew rolled his eyes. "Tonight is a special performance," he said.

"They're trying to make a point," I added.

"Maybe they could make it at a lower decibel and away from my nephew," Andrew said, going to grab Carson and play with him.

"So what does Emma Woodhouse do besides cook?"

I smiled. "I like to read and knit and watch old movies. And I sew."

"Sounds interesting," he replied. "What do you do for excitement?"

"Watch movies with Andrew," I replied.

He shook his head. "You and I are going to a bar next week. You need to live a little, Miss Woodhouse."

"I go to bars sometimes, just not often."

"Well, you and I are going to a bar together. Do you people have any bars that play local, indie groups?"

"That stuff happens more at A Modern Cup of Joe, the coffee shop. There aren't many bars around here. This is west Michigan, Holden."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

I laughed. "West Michigan is known as the Bible Belt of the North. People around here are kind of conservative. People don't go to the bar often."

"That's lame. Why did Charlie move here?"

"He was offered a position at Highbury College. It's a famous institution and it's really prestigious."

Holden sighed. "But what do you do for fun?"

"I like sewing, knitting, reading, and watching movies."

"I wasn't allowed to watch movies as a child. Gwen and I don't have a television in our house."

"Do you still live with your mom?"

He nodded. "She doesn't charge me rent. It's cheaper and easier. You live with your dad."

"Because of his age and health issues," I replied. "He's in his seventies."

"My mother is forty-seven."

"Just like Charlie," I replied.

"That's the general idea. They did meet at school after all."

I shrugged. "I don't know. Nina was in school when she met Charlie. And he's over twenty years older than her."

Holden nodded. "True that but you have to admit that they're an unusual situation."

I was willing to admit that but then I changed the topic. "How is it that someone who doesn't believe in TV loves bars and going out?"

He shrugged. "My mother taught me that you can learn a great deal about people from interacting with them in social situations. I've found that bars are great places to study people and societies."

"I thought you were an artist."

"I am," Holden replied. "But every artist is really simply telling the story of their society. I paint and draw what I see."

"And does that include your experiences in bars?"

"I'm currently working on a series about the behavior of people in the indie bar culture. I was hoping to continue my research while out here."

"Maybe you could do some research in coffee shops," I suggested.

"If you'll come with me, I'd love to."

I smiled. "I love coffee. Andrew and Nina are always accusing me of being addicted."

"I prefer tea," Holden replied. "I find it to be more organic and friendlier to the human temple. But I would love to go out for a warm beverage with you while I'm in Highbury."

I smiled. The comment about the "human temple" reminded me of Jessie Fairfax a little bit but I didn't mind terribly. He was so gorgeous and so nice. And it was nice to have someone different to talk to. When you live in a small town and you associate with the same people day after day, life can get boring. So it's always nice when someone new and exciting comes along.

* * *

At dinner, Halley and I were in the last ones into the dining room because we were bringing all of the food out from the kitchen. The only open seats were to Ethan's right and Rowan's left. "I can't sit by either of them," Halley whispered in my ear. "It'll be too awkward."

I knew she was right. I looked around the room and everyone was caught up in conversation. I was at a loss. I needed to sit by my father and I couldn't let Halley sit by Ethan or Rowan. I looked at Ava but she was busy talking to Nina-about breastfeeding; that wasn't a conversation I was about to interrupt. I then looked at Jack but my brother-in-law was talking to Charlie about fantasy football. Andrew was talking to Joyce but I kept shooting him looks. He wasn't catching them. "Halley, come into the kitchen with me for a moment," I said loudly, hoping that someone would notice us.

And as I was taking the salad dressing out of the cupboard, Andrew came in. "Are you both all right?"

"Just getting the salad dressing," I replied.

"I can't sit by Rowan or Ethan!" Halley said. "I just can't. It'll be embarrassing or awkward or confusing and I know they hate me."

He smiled and squeezed her shoulder. "Give me two minutes and I'll rearrange things out there." He turned to me. "Oh, and you look really nice tonight, Red. I like the headband."

I touched the black ribbon headband I was wearing and I smiled. "Thanks. I thought it would match the dress." I was wearing a purple dress with black flowers embroidered on it and a black ribbon belt.

"You look very sophisticated. Katharine and Grace would be proud."

* * *

When Halley and I returned to the dining room, Ethan and Rowan were sitting between Andrew and Ava. I went to the open seat between Ava and my father while Halley sat between Andrew and Holden. Andrew was extraordinarily attentive to Halley all evening-and ignored Ethan almost entirely. At one point, I overheard Rowan say "I thought Drew was your best friend. But he's barely said a word to you all night. He just keeps talking to that Harley chick."

"His brother is in town. He's distracted by family commitments."

I rolled my eyes and returned to a discussion with my dad and Nina about Christmas plans. Nina, Charlie, and Holden were celebrating with us because they didn't have any family in Michigan anymore. With Holden in town, Nina and Charlie didn't want to travel to visit their families; Nina's parents had moved to Arizona and Charlie's family lived in upstate New York. They both also had siblings scattered around the country but they really didn't want to travel-not this Christmas. They wanted to enjoy it with Holden.

* * *

"Thank you," I told Andrew later that evening after all the guests had gone home. We were in the kitchen cleaning up. "Thank you for taking care of everything."

He shook his head. "No thanks are required. Ethan's an ass and I don't mind helping Halley out here and there."

"I thought you were trying to be nice to Ethan."

"Oh, I was very nice when I asked him to move. I am determined to be nice to him. I'm trying to set a good example for him."

I laughed. "I think he thinks of himself as better than the rest of us."

"Oh I know he does. He's very self-righteous. But I'm determined to kill him with kindness."

"St. Andrew," I teased. "You're my hero."

"Oh good God, I'm so far from being a saint, Emma, and you know that."

"You're nicer than I'll ever be."

"That's not hard," he joked, flipping soap suds on my nose.

I splashed him. "What are you trying to say about me?"

He shrugged. "That you're not the nicest person ever born but neither am I. I'm just nicer than you are. But I'm less hot-headed than you are."

"That's why you're the producer and get to make all the important decisions. I just smile for the cameras."

Andrew laughed. "And you smile prettier than I do. In fact, you're just prettier than me. It's better if I hang out backstage."

"You're not ugly, Andrew."

He laughed a deep belly laugh. "Oh, Red, I know I'm not ugly. But I'm not George Clooney either."

"No, you're not old enough."

"You're so kind to me."

"We've been friends forever. It's my duty. After all, I used to share my sand with you when we were sitting in the sandbox."

"Oh yeah, back when we used to eat sand together, I remember those days."

"Now, we just have a TV show together."

"And a nice and a nephew," he added.

I nodded. "Now we're family, almost like brother and sister."

"You're always insisting that we're brother and sister."

"We basically are."

"But not quite," he said. "We're not really brother and sister."

"But we're as close as a brother and sister. And that's all we'll ever be."

"If you say so," Andrew replied with a look that I didn't quite understand.

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I do not own Emma. I am not Jane Austen. But I do love my reviewers; thanks for all your encouragement.

* * *

Two days before Christmas, Halley got into a fender-bender. Some guy hit the back of her car at a traffic light. She was listening to a John Mayer CD and drinking a medium mocha when it happened. How do I know this? She told me. As soon as she put the car in park, she called me. "And this car just hit me. Emma, I don't know what to do. I've never been in an accident before. Should I just drive away? Should I call the police? I spilled my mocha. I'm so confused. I don't know what to do. Emma, tell me what to do."

"Turn off your car," I told her. "And then get out of the car. And go talk to the other driver."

"But what if he's mad at me?" she asked. "What should I do if he yells at me?"

I sighed. "Just turn off the car and go talk to him. I'll be over there as soon as I can and I'll try to help you out."

"But what if I get arrested?" Halley said, sounding panicked. "I can't go to jail. I'm only twenty. I'm too young."

"He rear-ended you. You didn't do anything. You're not at fault. You won't go to jail. Now get out of your car and I'll talk to you as soon as I get there."

"Okay," she whimpered before I ended the call.

I sighed and turned to my sister who was making dinner. "I'll be back as soon as possible."

"What's up?"

"Halley got in a fender-bender and she's freaking out. She thinks they might put her in jail. So I'm going to help clear things up. But I'll be back before dinner."

"I'll put some in the microwave for you."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll be back in less than half an hour."

"Your plate will be in the microwave."

"Oh whatever, Ava; Andrew's coming over. I'll be here on time. He'll mock me for centuries if I don't."

"I'll see you very soon," she called as I ran out the door without my coat-but with my purse and my keys.

* * *

When I got the corner of Webster and Main, I found Holden helping the situation between Halley and the guy who rear-ended her car. Halley was crying and clinging to Holden who was calmly sorting things out. When she saw me, she flew to me. "It was the most terrifying experience of my life, Emma. I thought I was going to die. But right when I had to talk to the man, Holden came along and saved my life. He's my hero. He's like Romeo."

Oh dear, I thought. "I'm glad he came along," I said aloud.

"Can you take me home?" she asked. "Holden is going to take my car home because there's nothing I actually need to do here."

I nodded. "Did you give Holden your keys?"

"Yep, all of them," she replied.

"Sweetie, he only needs your car keys. You'll need your house keys to get back into the house."

"Oh yeah, my parents aren't home. I totally forgot about that."

"Go get your keys," I told her. After she walked away, I sighed and smiled. I love Halley but she can really be somewhat of a ditz/flake at times.

She came back bouncing with delight a few minutes later. "Holden said he can take me home. He's done dealing with the other guy for me. I guess I didn't really even need you to come out here at all."

"I'm sorry," Holden said. "I didn't realize that she'd already called you."

"It's all right," I replied. "I'll just head home. Thanks for all your help."

"Did you come all the way out here just to help Halley?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, I was just hanging out with my life."

"Shit, that sucks," Holden replied. "I'm so sorry about that. Let me make it up to you. Do you want to go out for a drink with me tonight?"

"I wish I could," I replied. "But we're having company for dinner tonight."

"Maybe tomorrow night?" he persisted. I really liked this guy.

"No, tomorrow is Christmas Eve."

"Okay, Saturday night, you can't say no. I will not be refused, Miss Woodhouse."

I laughed. "Saturday sounds great."

"Okay, I'll pick you up at eight o'clock sharp."

* * *

"You're going out with Holden Churchill?" Jack asked when I got home. "You need a chaperone. Andrew, find a girl to go with you and make it a double date. That guy has sleaze written all over him."

"He's Charlie's son," I protested. "I trust him."

"Uh, no," my brother-in-law replied. "You think he's hot and so you've turned off your better judgment."

"He's Charlie's son."

"But due to circumstances, his father has had barely any influence on his life. And I don't trust him with you. Emma, you're my sister and I want what's best for you. Ergo, I don't want you to go on a date with him."

"I hate it when you talk like a lawyer," I sighed.

"I think it's sexy," Ava said.

"Ava, you're my sister. You're supposed to stand up for me."

She shrugged. "Ordinarily, I would. But I've met the guy. He's slimy, Em."

I turned to Andrew. "You're not going to help me, are you?"

"Nope but I'm not chaperoning your dates either. I'm not an idiot. And I have better things to do with my time."

"Everyone hates me!"

Ava sighed. "I'm going to tell Dad that dinner is ready."

"I'll go get Carson," Jack said.

I glared at Andrew.

"You're acting like you're fourteen," he said. "Just go on your damn date. It'll make you happy and leave the rest of us in peace."

"I hate you sometimes."

"I know," he replied. "Trust me, Red. I'm used to you."

* * *

Christmas was wonderful. Carson really made it all worthwhile with his innocent and devoted belief in Santa Claus and his sheer delight as he opened each of his presents. Andrew stayed at our house from the day before Christmas Eve until the day after Christmas, playing with Carson and little Emma. They loved it. And he did too; Andrew really is wonderful with little kids. In truth, he's one of those people that everyone loves. He's warm and charismatic. And I know it. I think he knows it too but I'm not sure. It's like how I'm pretty sure that he knows that most women think that he's gorgeous. But I'm still not positive that he knows.

* * *

"You can't wear those shoes out tonight," Ava told me when I came downstairs wearing dark blue skinny jeans, a blue lacy top, a black sweater, and a pair of black Chucks.

I glared at her. "I'm Emma Woodhouse. I wear Chucks. It's just a fact of life."

"Go upstairs and the black boots you got last winter. And then put them on your damn feet."

"I'm going out with freaking Holden Churchill. I'm wearing my Chucks."

"Emma Elizabeth Woodhouse, go upstairs and put your boots on. Now or I'll drag you up there." She was giving me the same look that she gave Carson to get him into the bathtub.

I sighed. I had no defenses against my sister's maternal skills. So I went back upstairs and put on the leather boots. When I got back downstairs, Holden was in the kitchen with Ava, Jack, and Andrew who had mysteriously appeared out of nowhere-apparently to watch football with his brother.

"Miss Woodhouse," Holden said, jumping up from the stool by the counter. "You look absolutely lovely this evening. I love your shoes."

I smiled and thanked him before whispering in my sister's ear "You so totally told him to say that."

She just shook her head and replied, "Nah, everyone notices your shoes."

I looked at Andrew and he winked. I ignored him and put on my coat before following Holden out of the house.

* * *

"You drive a Mini-Cooper? I would have thought you would have a Prius," I said when we reached Holden's car.

"Well, this is just a rental car," he replied. "And I love sports cars. At home, I share a Prius with Mom. We prefer to use bikes or buses. We're very conscious of our carbon footprint."

I climbed into the car and he got in on his side. "So what exactly do you do in Tucson?"

"I'm an artist. And I work with children. I'm volunteering in a program that works to expose intercity children to the arts at a young age. Right now, I'm working with fifth-graders."

"That's so cool."

"Yeah, it's great. We have art and music and cooking and all kinds of stuff like that."

"Cooking, that's great. I'd love to use cooking to help intercity kids."

He nodded. "Jessie Fairfax spent several months with us for the summer."

"I thought she lived in Toledo before coming here."

"She did. But the restaurant where she worked had some connections to our program and sent her to us. She was with us all summer."

"What was she like?" I asked. "Was she as quiet there as she is here?"

Holden laughed; he laughs like his father, like Denzel Washington. "I don't understand Jessie Fairfax at all. She's so prim and proper and prissy. She only speaks when spoken too. It's like she's a child or something. It's absolutely ridiculous."

"Wow, was this like a venting of some sort?" I asked. "I just asked if she was quiet."

"She was extraordinarily quiet. She never talked to anyone. She almost seemed afraid of people. She never spent time with the rest of us outside of work."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah, she only spent time with the people from her restaurant in Toledo-Amy Campbell and Nick Dixon."

"I've heard her talk about them. They got married shortly before she moved here."

"I heard about that. Doesn't it strike you as suspicious that they got married and then she lost her job and moved here?"

I shrugged. "I've never thought about it really."

"Oh, well, I always thought it was weird. It was kind of like a ménage-a-trois or something."

"You think they were having a threesome together?"

"Well, yeah, she's way sexier than Amy was."

I glared at him. "I hate when guys quantify hotness. We're all unique. Women aren't all the same."

"Oh you're unique, Emma Woodhouse. I'm well aware of that."

I smiled. "I don't mean just me. I hate when guys compare girls to one another. We're all different. Take Ava and me for example."

"Ava?" he asked.

"My older sister, you've met her."

"She's married to Andrew's brother, right?"

I nodded. "And we're very different from each other."

"Yeah, physically you two are really different. You have very different coloring; one could find it hard to believe that you're siblings."

I laughed. "Yeah, I'm a redhead and she's a brunette."

"But you have very similar facial lines. It's really quite impressive. Most people would miss these minute little similarities but as an artist, my eye is trained to note these little details that most people overlook."

I smiled. "You are very talented. Your dad has shown me various examples of your work over the years."

"He really is proud of me. It's so cool. He's a great dad, even if we're not very close or very involved in each other's lives." Holden looked at me. "My mom doesn't really believe in traditional family roles. She says that people don't need to get married, that marriage is just a social construct."

"I'm not interested in getting married," I said. "But I support other people who do."

"My mom doesn't," he replied. "She's always told me that women don't need men and men don't need women. Sex is merely for pleasure. Children are a gift from the Universe. And families are unnecessary. Mothers don't need to raise their children."

"Wow, that's charming," I replied.

"I know it sounds callous and crude but I think it's true. Adoptive parents love their children as much as biological parents do, sometimes more."

"Right but adoptive parents are parents; they create families."

"Hmm, I've never thought about it like that. Mom is always talking about how families are just unnecessary."

"But you still live with her, don't you?" I asked.

"Free rent, Emma, free rent, you live with your pops. You get what I'm talking about. Free rent is the money. It's like the universe's greatest gift to humanity."

"Holden, I live with my dad because he's seventy years old and he has health problems. Also, I work in the house. The kitchen is my studio and Andrew and I both have offices in the house."

"But you also get free rent. And that is amazing, my friend."

I shrugged. "But I also really value the time I get to spend with my dad."

"Dude, you need to cut free from family ties. Live with the flow. Love people. Do what you want, when you want. Live freely. Breathe freely."

"You sound like a fortune cookie."

He laughed. "I just want you to enjoy life more. Live in the Zen."

"You and Jessie would really get along great."

"Nah, she's too boring, too quiet. I don't like the quiet types."

"Still waters run deep," I replied.

"In her case, that must be really, really deep because I'm not seeing anything. She must be really sexually repressed."

"I thought you thought she was having an affair with Nick Dixon."

He pulled the car into the parking lot at The Caged Loon, the only bar in Highbury. I looked at him. "I do think they were having an affair," he replied. "But I think that she's absurdly sexually repressed."

"I don't get it."

"It's a complex theory," he replied. "Now, let's go enjoy a drink."

"This place is seriously shady," I said.

"Nah, it's just a bar. Get out of the car and come with me."

I sighed. "It's a really shady bar."

"But I really wanted to go to a bar with you."

"I'd really rather go get a cup of coffee. If you want to get a drink, we can go to a restaurant and get a drink there. Where did you even find the Caged Loon anyway?"

"Google," he replied. "The reviews weren't that great but a bar is a bar."

"As a cook, I disagree with that statement. Now let's go somewhere else."

* * *

We went to Daniela's, the restaurant that my mother had opened, and were seated immediately. "I think they know you here or something," Holden remarked.

I laughed. "I own this place. They'd better know me."

"You own this place? You have your own TV show and your own restaurant? And you're not thirty yet? How has Forbes not done a cover story about you yet?"

I laughed. "Martha Stewart is afraid that I'm going to overthrow her empire."

He smiled. "Tell me one thing about Emma Woodhouse that most people wouldn't know normally."

"When I was eleven years old, I destroyed all of the letters that Jack Knightley had written to Ava after we had a fight. I shredded all of them in my dad's office and then he threw out the trash the next day without ever noticing the extra shredded paper."

"You are not a bad girl."

I shrugged. "I've never really wanted to be."

"C'mon, you never drank underage or smoked even though your parents told you not to?"

"Nope," I replied.

"God, you're like some kind of Virgin Mary freak or something."

I sighed. "You're not really making me like you right now."

"Am I not being charming right now? I'm sorry. I haven't been on a date with a girl who is smart and pretty in a while."

I smiled. "That's better. Now tell me about Holden Churchill."

"Well, I'm an artist and painting is my favorite medium. I don't watch television but I do watch movies. My mother believes that cinema is a form of art while television is merely a pedestrian way to make money if you aren't talented enough for the stage or the silver screen."

"What would you say to someone like Peter O'Toole appearing on an episode or two of _The Tudors_?"

"He's debasing his craft and his own talents," he replied.

"Okay, what would you think about Peter O'Toole being in a BBC movie?"

"Oh that's different altogether. British television has not sunk the level of idiocy that American television is stuck at. Americans are just so boring and uninteresting."

"Aren't you an American?"

"Yes, however, my mother is from England and has educated me about their obvious superiority."

I raised my eyebrows. "How do you feel about Canada?"

"I've never been there," he replied. "I'm only interested in Europe. I should dearly love to move to Paris and live in an apartment there, journaling all of my experiences and eating delicious pastries and partaking in intellectual conversation."

"I would love to move to Paris too," I told him. "I really want to take cooking lessons in France."

"We should go to Paris together."

I laughed. "We barely know each other and you're already offering to go to Paris with me?"

"You'd be a fun travel companion," he said. "I can tell that just on instinct. We would tear up the town. Think about it, Emmy, moonlight strolls on the river and dancing until dawn in indie clubs. You could take French cooking classes and then write a book about it. You'd have to take a few years off from your show but that's okay. This would make you more credible. You could be the next Julia Child."

"Julia Child did have a TV show," I told him, taking a sip of my margarita.

"And that makes you so much cooler. But I think it would be so sexy if you wrote a cookbook."

"I'm not sure anyone ever really thought of Julia Child as sexy."

He smiled. "This is why you need me in your life. With Andrew, you'll only ever be ordinary. I can make you extraordinary."

"With Andrew?" I repeated. "What on earth is that supposed to mean?"

"Charlie told me once that many of your fans think that you and Andrew are destined to be together. I've seen you two together and I have to disagree. You're just good friends. You look like brother and sister together. He's too boring, too spiritless for you."

Personally, I'd never heard anyone call Andrew boring or spiritless before. But I just smiled. "I'd love to go to Paris. My parents both went many times and my father traveled extensively when he was on the professional tennis tour. But since his retirement, he has decided that he doesn't want to travel anymore and he doesn't think people should live more than fifty miles away from their friends and family."

"And so you cannot go to Paris?"

"He would not appreciate it."

"What a shame," Holden said with a frown. "Maybe I'll have to make like Prince Charming and rescue the poor Miss Woodhouse and spirit her away to Paris."

* * *

A/N: Please review.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I don't own what you recognize. And I do think that Jeremy Northam is absolutely gorgeous.

* * *

"Jeremy Northam is absolutely gorgeous," I announced as Andrew and Halley and I sat on the couch watching the first season of _The Tudors_ on DVD.

Andrew snorted. "His nose is too long."

I looked at him. "You're one to talk."

He touched his own nose, which was crooked from being broken when we were children. "Yeah, well, I'm a damn sight better looking than Holden."

"Holden is gorgeous," Halley sighed.

"Everyone says that."

I looked at my childhood friend. "Are you jealous?"

"Nah, but I know you're jealous of Jessie."

"She's too perfect, Andrew."

"But at least she's better than Rowan."

Andrew gagged. "I can't stand her. And I can't stand spending time with Ethan. He's so boring. He thinks that man-time is time spent drinking beer and talking about _Playboy_."

"I didn't know you looked at _Playboy_."

"I don't, Red. Real men don't need porn."

I smiled. "You're a good man, Andrew. I hope you know that."

He shrugged. "I try."

* * *

"I'm going to kill Rowan," Andrew as he walked into my office and slammed the door behind him. On the other side of the door, I heard Halley scream.

It was our second day back after our two-week holiday break. I looked up from five different banana bread recipes that I was studying and said, "Huh?"

"I'm not even kidding. I'm going to tear her head off and rip her shoulders from her arms."

"Rowan?" I asked.

He slammed his fists on my desk. "Where the hell does she get off trying to convince that Jessie to give up her career as a cook to become an au pair?"

Now, please remember that Jessie annoys me as a person but not as a cook. I love her vegan chocolate-almond torte, for example, and think that she should sell it; she'd be an instant millionaire if she did. "Jessie is a great cook."

"I just ran into the two of them in the hallway. Rowan told her that she'll never get married at this rate and it would be better if she just gave up on this cooking crap."

"I'm going to kill her."

"Oh and she also said that you look like a horse."

I'm not exactly sure how I broke the doorknob to my office. Nor am I sure how I broke my wrist; I know that I ripped Andrew's shirt when he was trying to calm me down after I started trying to climb over my (very messy) desk. Whatever happened, I broke my wrist. And I had to go to the hospital and get a cast. And I had to hand my show over to Jessie for three days. I talked Andrew down to two. But still, it hurt.

* * *

"You're right-handed, Emma, and you broke your right wrist. You are going to need help," Andrew told me that night as we sat in the living room.

"Get Jessie," I told him. "I know she's a vegan and has problems cooking meat. But I want to piss Rowan off. I want to see if I can get Ethan to quit."

He smiled. "You're trouble, Miss Woodhouse, and I like it."

"I'm tired, Andrew. And I'm sick and tired of Ethan. I want Halley to stop walking on eggshells around the set. I want you to stop pretending to be his best friend. I want Rowan to stop trying to control all of us. I want her to leave Jessie alone so I don't have to keep being nice to someone I don't really like."

"I like codeine. Codeine makes you honest," Andrew said with a teasing smile.

"Shut your face, Knightley. In a couple of days, I'll be back to myself."

"Yeah, well, don't climb on your desk anymore."

"Don't tell me that people think that I look like a horse."

He smiled. "Emma, that's not all she says about you. If you listened to her, you'd think you were a professional pole dancer or something."

I sighed. "I want that woman off my set. Can't I order a closed set or something?"

"If you want to, we could look into it. We'd have to get the network involved. We're a cooking show; it's really weird that we'd do something like this."

"I know. And it's kind of petty. But she's disrupting life around here. I don't like the atmosphere, the tension that Rowan and Ethan create around here."

"You're worried about Halley," he said.

"Six months ago, I had a normal set. Now, I have tension and squabbling. I have an assistant who is scared of Ethan. Nina's hormonal."

"That's nothing nine months won't cure."

"Trust me. I have her due date circled with a bright pink marker on my calendar."

"First babies tend to be late. Remember Ava."

I glared at him. He deserved it. But then he gave me ice cream, so I forgave him. "Andrew, why are you so nice to me?" I asked him.

"What do you mean?"

"I abuse you and I boss you around and I throw things at you and I break my arm doing stupid shit and I whine and moan and I'm spoiled and I'm selfish. And you take care of me and you're nice to me and you're my friend and you work with me. And I'm a bitch, you know?"

"That would be the codeine talking," he replied. "It's your bedtime, Em."

"Will you tell me a bedtime story?" I asked as he led me upstairs.

He shrugged. "We'll see."

"Will you tell me the one about the three piggies and the wolf? I like that one."

He smiled benevolently. "I told that we'd see and we'll see when we get upstairs."

"Oh fine, you can be the boss. But it's just this once, Andrew. Do you understand that?"

He nodded and took me to my bedroom. He tucked me into my bed and sat down next to it. "Do you still want to hear the one about the three piggies?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I want to hear the one about the princess who slept for hundreds of years."

"Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away…" Andrew began. But I fell asleep before he really got going. Codeine will do that to you.

* * *

"You want me to cook with meat?" Jessie asked when Andrew and I met with her the next morning after an episode on asparagus-hummus wraps and watermelon sorbet. It was a summer meal but it was the best Jessie could think of with less than a day's warning.

"If you'd rather not, that's fine with us and we'll figure out another way to do this," Andrew told her.

"But we'd like to give you some more publicity," I told her. "And you have such a way with the camera. You're a natural and the viewers seem to like you."

"But I'm a vegan and I wouldn't want to mislead people. It's very important to me."

"We could remind our viewers that you're a vegan," Andrew said slowly.

"Like fine print at the beginning of every episode," I said jokingly.

Jessie, however, didn't see the joke and thought this was amazing. "Oh could we? And could we request that they make donations to the ASPCA or other animal rights groups?"

"I'll talk to the network," Andrew replied. "But we'd really like to have you around."

"And if there's anything else we need to do to keep you around, just let Andrew or I know," I told her.

Jessie beamed. She never just grinned; it was always this perfect, sunshine beam. "That's wonderful. Let me know what the network says but I'd love to help you in whatever ways I can."

"We'd need you around until I get this damn cast off," I said. "And that will probably be six weeks. But it's six weeks of publicity and maybe you'll get your own show out of it."

"It sounds great," she said. "Just tell me when and where to sign and I'll be here."

* * *

After she left, Andrew looked at me. "Are you trying to use her to get rid of Rowan and Ethan?"

"Women have wiles, Andrew."

He shook his head. "Red, you're ridiculous."

I smiled at him. "It pays the bills."

"And breaks your wrist too, apparently," he replied.

"You do what you have to do. But can you stay and make dinner for Dad and me tonight?"

He laughed. "Of course I will. Should I expect to be doing that until you get the cast off?"

I nodded. "We'd appreciate that. But I'm not going to be home on Friday night. I have a date with Holden."

"Then your dad and I will have a man-date. We'll drink beer and eat pizza and watch football and grunt and burp."

"You do that all the time with me."

Andrew laughed. Holden has a nicer, prettier, whiter smile than Andrew does but Andrew's laugh is better; it's more real. You know that it's really a laugh from the heart when he laughs. "And your dad would never burp or drink beer. He's too refined for that."

I shook my head. "You are not nice, Mr. Knightley."

"Au contraire, Miss Woodhouse, I am the nicest man you'll ever meet."

"As usual, you're full of shit."

He smiled. "So you're going on yet another date with Holden Caulfield?"

"His last name is Churchill."

"I like calling him Holden Caulfield. It gives him a more James Dean feel."

"Aren't you mixing metaphors there?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "I don't care. Mixing metaphors never killed anyone before. If you want, I could throw in a Jack Kerouac reference."

I laughed. "Nah, I'm good. Thanks for the offer."

* * *

"Please tell me that broken arm has a kick-ass story behind it," was Holden's first comment upon seeing my purple cast.

I laughed. "Nope, I was climbing over my desk and I landed on my wrist."

He shook his head. "I expect more from you, Emma."

"I'm not very exciting. You should know that by now."

"I need to do something about that. I can't date a boring girl. I have a reputation to protect."

"The whole Jack Kerouac/James Dean/Rebel without a Cause thing?" I asked.

He grinned his amazing smile. "If I ran around with a leather jacket would that help?"

"Nah, you're like a hippie mixed with James Dean," I replied. "A leather jacket isn't really your thing."

"Should I take up smoking pot?"

I raised my eyebrows and thought of what Andrew would say to that. "Please don't. I hate the way pot smells."

"You're a goody-two-shoes and just like that Jessie Fairfax."

"I thought you barely knew her."

"True story but she's a good girl. There's no way to corrupt her. And such a shame too, she'd be a good lay."

"You can be really gross. It's really unattractive," I told him.

He sighed. "That's what I keep hearing. But Gwendolyn says that I should just be myself and be honest with women. She says there's no reason to pretend to be a gentleman. That's just old-fashioned bullshit."

"Well some of us prefer that old-fashioned bullshit to your comments about good lays."

"It's the twenty-first century. Let me guess. You like watching that PBS Masterpiece Theater stuff."

"I love it," I replied. "Every Sunday night, I make my dad and Andrew watch it with me."

"You're sick."

I shook my head. "I love old movies and classic literature. It's so much fun. And I love Miss Marple."

"Weirdo," he sighed.

I rolled my eyes. "You're just lame and don't appreciate my culture."

"I love anthropology. I love cultures but I think you spend too much time watching television and not enough time living life. It's bad enough that you host a cooking show."

"Hey now!" I said. "I love my show. I teach people how to cook."

"That's what cookbooks are for."

"I published a cookbook."

"Well aren't you special?"

I glared at him. "Look, I don't have to sit here and listen to you act like a pissy thirteen-year-old girl. If you don't like what I'm doing with my life, I can move on with my life and find other friends. I don't need you. I just like spending time with you. But I don't like it when you look down on my job or when you objectify women."

"All right, Miss Prissy," he sighed. "If I have to act like a saint to hang out with you, I guess I can try."

I really liked him. I couldn't tell you why but I did. But at the same time, something about him bugged me and a part of me really wanted to call Andrew and ask him to come get me. I could live with him saying "I told you so" just as long as I felt like a real person. But I didn't call Andrew. Instead, I stayed at the restaurant with Holden. We drank beer and talked about literature. We didn't have a whole lot in common but it was still fun. He could be fun. He could be a nice guy. But he had a tendency to be really base and graphic. I didn't get it. He was so different from his dad.

* * *

"I like him, Nina," I told her when we were having coffee together the next day. "But I don't understand him."

"He grew up with Gwendolyn and she has very progressive ideas."

I sighed. "I know. But I don't know how I feel when he talks about women being good lays."

"Tell him to cut it out. He does stop if you tell him. But he used to just talking off the cuff and saying whatever he wants without being judged."

"He was talking about smoking pot."

"He does," Nina said. "But he won't do it around you if you don't want him to."

"I don't want to smell it. And it's illegal."

"I know. But he's used to his mom's anthropology-let's-explore-cultures lifestyle."

I sighed. "I know. He's always telling me that. But here's the thing. He's gorgeous but he doesn't seem to be interested in me as a person, just me as a pretty face."

She shook her head and ran her hands through her hair. "Gwendolyn told Charlie that Holden isn't always good with girls. He gets awkward."

"Are you saying that he's all talk and no action?"

She shrugged. "Emma, I don't really know much about him. But Charlie loves him and I like him. I'd like to see the two of you together."

"I know you would. But he's going to have to clean up his life first."

"I'll tell him."

I smiled. "He is beautiful and he can be very thoughtful and sweet."

"You know that Charlie and I just want you to be happy and we both think that you and Holden would be great together."

"Andrew isn't crazy about him. I'm not saying that's a deal breaker but Andrew is my best friend."

"But I've known Andrew forever," she said. "And you know as well as I do that he's very protective of you. Would he like anyone who you tried to date? He's just trying to protect you. He's skeptical of Holden. Don't worry, Em. He'll come around."

* * *

The following week, Jessie and I started working together. To my surprise, we complimented each other really well. I wore dresses and my Chucks while she wore vegan clothes. We cooked together really well and she was very sympathetic about my broken arm. (She didn't know that I'd broken it lunging over my desk after learning what Rowan thought of Jessie and me.)

* * *

Rowan had been heard complaining loudly that she should have been asked to help Emma because "I'm a nurse and I know something about cooking."

"Yes but my dear Jessie went to cooking school," Joyce told her. "Andrew told Jessie that Emma wanted to work with someone with talent. And you know how particular our lovely Emma is. She's so like her mother. She likes to have everything just so. And she wants to help Jessie launch her career. Jessie deserves this and I think that Emma knows that. But like I said, Emma is so good-hearted, so sweet. She loves helping people."

"She hasn't helped me get a job in Highbury."

"But, Rowan sweetie, you're a nurse. Why are you haunting the set of a television show? We have no real need for a nurse around here. Like her dear mother, Emma is always extraordinarily careful and never gets hurt."

"Joyce, she just broke her arm."

"But that wasn't a cooking related accident. That was a common household accident. You don't have nurses in every home. Don't be ridiculous."

As Rowan walked away, I could swear I heard her mutter something about "Look who's talking." But I can't be sure.

* * *

Wednesday afternoon, Halley came into my office carrying a vase with a bouquet of gorgeous pink roses. "A delivery man from Forde's Florist just brought these by for you," she said.

"Then put them on my desk, please," I said looking up from my desk.

"And there was this note with them," she added, handing me a small envelope. "Who is it from?"

"Could you open the envelope for me please?" I asked her. "My wrist and all, it's kind of rough."

She took the envelope back as Andrew walked into the room. "It's from Holden, Emma!" she exclaimed. "He says that he wanted to get you something that was as beautiful as you are and these are the best he could do. And he's looking forward to your date on Friday. Oh, here's the card."

"That's quite the compliment," Andrew said. "But Emma doesn't like pink or roses."

"But it's the thought that counts," I told him.

Halley gasped. "You don't like roses?"

I shook my head. "Not particularly and please don't ask me why; it's just a matter of taste. I think daisies are prettier."

"Oh, I love daisies! They're so sweet and innocent, don't you think?"

"I think they're friendly and peppy," I replied simply. "And they remind me of my mother."

* * *

A few minutes later, I got a phone call from Holden. "So did you get my present?" he said as soon as I answered the phone.

"I did," I replied, fingering one delicate rose.

"And do you like them?"

"They're lovely."

"I knew you'd love them. I saw them at the florist's and thought they were absolutely perfect for you."

I cleared my throat. "They're beautiful, Holden, but I thought that you weren't the type to send flowers. I would think that would be too traditional for you."

He laughed. "According to Charlie and Nina, you're a very traditional girl and I should respect that. And I realized that anthropologically speaking I do have a duty to respect your beliefs and traditions."

"Well, thank you. I appreciate your gesture of respect. And I'm also looking forward to Friday night."

"I'll see you then. I should get back to what I was doing but I wanted to make sure that you got your flowers."

"It was nice hearing from you, Holden," I replied. "Have a great day."

"You too," he said before hurriedly hanging up.

A thought flitted across my brain after I closed my cell phone. He was on vacation; what was he doing that he was supposedly too busy for a phone conversation with the girl he was dating?

* * *

A/N: Please review.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: I do not own the obvious. And I really love and appreciate my reviewers as well as everyone who adds this story to their alerts or favorites. Unfortunately, _Knit 'n' Lit_, my Pride and Prejudice story has a stronger following, so I'm trying to update that one more frequently. But I do love this story and all of you. And I hope that you enjoy the adventures/misadventures of Emma and Andrew.

* * *

Before I really knew what was happening, it was mid-February. Holden went back to Arizona in mid-January because his mother needed his help with their Arts for Social Change program. My arm healed and was out of the cast two days after Valentine's Day. I spent Valentine's Day watching movies with Halley, Jessie, and Andrew; it was interesting, to say the least. We kept Jessie around the show until my arm healed. But we decided to keep bringing her back once a week for "The Vegetarian Corner." We even cooked a vegetarian Valentine's Day meal together. It was inspired by a Middle Eastern theme-hummus, grape leaves etc. Even Andrew liked it; the boy can have class and good taste when he wants to.

Halley, despite the fact that I thought she was interested in Holden, was acting almost flirtatiously with Andrew. And that confused me. A few months ago, she was terrified of him. But now she was making special coffee runs for him and buying him his favorite pastries. He, of course, was sending her to A Modern Cup of Joe, which just happens to be where Robby Martin works. And Robby Martin is Andrew's cousin. Andrew has always thought that Robby had a much better chance of winning Halley's heart than Ethan ever did. I disagreed with Andrew, but he'd turned out to be right. Unfortunately, what's done is done and we can't change the past. Robby and Halley aren't going to get together-no matter how many times Andrew sends Halley to A Modern Cup of Joe.

Nina was five months pregnant and desperately trying to avoid Rowan who had finally gotten a job as a nurse. But now she wanted to help Nina through her pregnancy with her "professional experience and expertise." Nina wasn't very interested because she was using a midwife and a doula, hoping for a more natural experience. "I'm not going to be drugged up," she told me over lunch one day. "I will remember this baby's birth."

She was expecting a girl and I was thrilled beyond belief. I was already knitting a baby blanket and baby booties and a million other little oddments for the baby. "Your daughter will be just another niece for me. Emma and Carson are so far away, so it'll be nice to have a niece who is closer to home."

Nina grinned. "Charlie and I were hoping that you and Holden would be the baby's godparents. It would just be so perfect."

I smiled. "We'd love to. Well, okay, I would love to. I can't speak for your stepson."

"Charlie already asked him and he agreed, of course. He says that he doesn't believe in God but that if we want it, he'll do anything to make us happy. He's a little eccentric, but I like him."

"He is your stepson. It's good for you to like him."

She laughed. "He's a sweetheart. He's been so kind to you."

"He sends me roses once a week, even though he's gone."

"How romantic," she sighed. "What kind of roses are they?"

"One single long-stemmed pink rose weekly and for Valentine's Day, he sent me one dozen pink roses," I replied. "They're fair trade and organic."

"That's Holden for you. He thinks that giving women roses is a man's duty."

"They're lovely roses, but Nina, you and I both know that roses aren't my favorite flowers. I'm a daisy girl."

"Then tell him."

"And I don't like pink. And Andrew knows all of this. Neen, he comments on it every freaking time he sees one of those damn pink roses. I love the sentiment behind them but I hate that Andrew mocks them. And I hate that Andrew knows what I want better than Holden does."

Nina patted my hand. "Sweetie, I'll talk to Charlie and ask him to straighten things out with Holden. We'll just tell him that you prefer purple gerbera daisies to pink roses. I'm sure things will straighten out easily."

I smiled. "I'd really like it. I don't know how to tell him that I appreciate the thought but I don't like pink or roses. I'm a redhead, Neen. I can't do pink."

"Lies," she said. "Your hair is auburn; isn't that what you're always telling Andrew?"

"Auburn is merely a shade of red."

"Try pink sometime, Em. I bet you of all people could rock it out."

"Halley is always telling me that I'm serious hot-stuff and I need to branch out beyond purple."

"You wear more colors than purple!"

"I know! That's what I said. Look at me right now." I was wearing dark wash skinny jeans, green chucks, a dark green tunic sweater, and a black beaded scarf.

"No purple whatsoever," Nina replied with an approving smile. "I, on the other hand, am wearing purple." She was wearing skinny jeans, boots, and a purple tunic/maternity top.

"You are such a cute pregnant lady," I told her. "I hope I'm half as cute as you are when I'm pregnant."

"I thought you were never going to get married or have children."

I shrugged. "I might be reconsidering. But I don't need to get married. I need a man like a fish needs a bicycle."

"But maybe you'll meet someone you want," she said with a teasing glint in her eye.

"And then I'll have beautiful babies."

"I have no doubt that you and a Certain Someone will make absolutely beautiful babies."

I laughed and took a sip of coffee. "Shall we get back to work? Andrew will probably send Halley out looking for me if I'm not back in my office soon."

* * *

When I got back to my office, Andrew was sitting at my desk watching videos on my laptop. "You've got to see this Italian Soccer Practice video," he told me when I walked in. "It's priceless."

I laughed. "Andy, you know that I introduced you to that video three years ago."

"Shut up. I'm busy laughing."

I shook my head and came to lean over his shoulder. "This one is great. Dude, find the Adidas commercials from the 2006 World Cup."

"The Jose plus ten ones?" he asked. "I love those."

"Are we really playing around online at work again? We have real jobs that need doing."

"Red, you're no fun at all."

I swatted the side of his head. "All right, Jimmy Stewart, if you say so, but fun or not, we do need to earn our keep around here. After all, we need to stay on top in the ratings."

"The Today Show emailed; they want you to fly to New York and be their guest chef the first Friday of May."

"Are you serious?" I asked. "That would be great."

"You can't bring Jessie."

"That's all right. I'm sure that someday she'll get there on her own. But it'll be great publicity for the show and for the restaurant."

He nodded. "So you want to do it?"

"Of course I do."

"You can only take me with you to New York. Matt and Meredith will be there with you so you don't need Joyce and Nina and everyone. Plus, Nina will be too pregnant to fly then."

"You're blunt, Jimmy."

Andrew rolled his eyes. "You're ridiculous, Red."

"And you love me for it," I replied. "Now get out of my chair."

"As you wish," he said, standing up.

As I sat down, I looked at him. "Where's Halley?"

"She went out to get me a chai latte. Apparently, she doesn't know that we can make those in the kitchen."

"You asked her to go get you one? You're horrible."

"No, no, no, calm down, Red," he said, sounding far too much like Cary Grant from _The Philadelphia Story_. "She came into my office and said that she was going over to A Modern Cup of Joe to get herself a latte. She offered to pick something up for me while she was out. I said that I would really like a chai latte. I never actually asked her to buy me one."

I laughed. "Cute, but you'd better pay her for it."

"Oh I will. And then I'm going to introduce her to the state-of-the-art espresso machine in the kitchen."

"How sweet of you," I replied. "Make sure to tell her that we have soy milk and skim milk in the fridge."

"Oh I will. I'll also tell her that you keep the fixings for mochas in the fridge and cupboards."

"I'm smart. Now get out of my office so I can work."

* * *

The following Tuesday, Halley brought a bouquet of one dozen pink gerbera daisies into my office. "They're from Holden," she said putting them on my desk. "I got excited and opened the envelope. I forgot that you don't need me to do that anymore."

"Well, please hand it over," I said. My voice betrayed a note of testiness but that was because she had given Andrew his own personal pan of brownies. Honestly, she was supposed to be in love with Holden, not Andrew; Andrew was far too good for someone like Halley. She was silly and didn't know or care who Cary Grant was.

I took the note from her hand and she sat down opposite my desk, eagerly awaiting my reaction. _To a lovely lady, I'm sorry for continually sending flowers that you associate with your mother's funeral. I hope that these lovely daisies will serve as an appropriate apology. Yours ever, Holden_

"Isn't it lovely?" Halley asked.

"It's very nice," I replied. But pink roses don't remind me of my mother's funeral. I just don't like them. There were white lilies at my mother's funeral-nothing pink and certainly no roses.

"He's so romantic. Emma, are you going to marry him?"

I laughed. "I've only known him for two months. I can't make my mind up about him just yet."

"But he sends you flowers."

"But I'm sure that I'm not the object of his affections. I'm far too independent for him. He needs a calmer, gentler spirit." Someone more like you, I added mentally.

"But he's so handsome and he's so kind to you. No one has ever sent me flowers. And the roses are so pretty. And these daisies are really nice too."

"I love daisies," I told her. "Purple daisies are my favorite flowers."

"I love the color pink," Halley replied. Halley was wearing black dress pants, pink shoes, and a pink blouse.

"Then take the daisies home with you at the end of the day. I'm not overly attached to the gift or the giver."

"But Holden is so handsome and sweet and kind!"

"You can have him," I said, trying to sound casual. "I'm not interested."

"But you keep letting him send you flowers."

"Halley, I don't think I could stop him if I tried."

"But he's so romantic. Why don't you like him?"

I sighed. "I don't know. He's very nice to me but I just don't feel anything towards him."

* * *

Halley couldn't understand. She was the sort of girl who fell in and out of love easily. She was charmed by a pretty face and a kind smile. But I wanted more. I wanted intelligence and depth. Adventures and laughter, I wanted to see the world. Halley wasn't like that. She would be contented with living in Highbury for the rest of her life. If she never went to Paris, it wouldn't really bother her. But me, that would bother me. Despite my father's convictions that travel was the source of death and suffering, I wanted to see the world. I wanted to really go places, not just use Google Earth to look at them.

Andrew and Nina understood that. They knew me better than Halley did. But Nina still thought Holden would be a good match for me. Andrew disagreed. But they rarely agreed on things like relationships. Andrew like Charlie but Nina was always trying to set Andrew up with people-to little or no success. She'd frequently been mentioning that she thought Andrew and Jessie would be a great match but he just told her to stop listening to gossip and actually spend time with her friends. She was still dropping the occasional hint on the subject but Andrew was remaining firm in his stance that he would never date or marry a vegetarian because "I like eating dead animals."

Andrew understood me better than almost anyone else. We'd been best friends since high school and neighbors since infancy. We'd eaten sand together in the sandbox. We knew each other and we understood each other.

* * *

After that day, I started giving every bouquet of flowers (always pink gerbera daisies) that Holden sent me to Halley. And for some reason that I couldn't explain for the life of me, Jessie seemed to being nicer to me than she had been before I did this. It was probably just a random coincidence but she suddenly became much more likeable. She was actually almost fun to be around. She, Andrew, and I went out for dinner together and it was actually enjoyable. She drank beer and laughed and talked. She didn't talk much about her past but she openly admitted that she was ready to sock Rowan in the jaw. Rowan was continually suggesting that Jessie find a real profession and get out of the TV business. "I like cooking. And I enjoy working with you two. I'm happy here in Highbury with my aunt and with you. I don't need her ragging on me all the time and trying to be my best friend."

"Tell me about it," Andrew sighed. "Ethan told her that I'm his best friend so now he wants me to pretend to be his best friend. And I can't even go out and drink a beer with him or watch a football game. He'd rather drink fruity drinks with umbrellas and watch _Dancing with the Stars_."

"Hey now," I protested. "I watch _Dancing with the Stars_."

"You're a girl. I'm a dude and I watch _Monday Night Football_."

Jessie laughed. "You two bicker like an old married couple."

"Or two people who used to force-feed each other sand back in preschool," I said.

"Are you serious?"

Andrew laughed. "It was mostly her force-feeding me. She liked to play chef in the sandbox and I was gullible and ate whatever she fed me."

"I wasn't that bad."

"Hey, I admit that I was dumb. You were just really persuasive and I was really dumb. I've grown up a lot in the past twenty years."

"He's right," I told Jessie. "He won't eat just anything that you put in front of him anymore. You may have noticed his aversion to anything that doesn't have meat in it."

Jessie laughed. "I have, once or twice. But we did get him to eat the falafel and the vegan grape leaves on Valentine's Day."

"And he liked it, didn't he?" I teased.

"Yes, Mikey liked it," Andrew sighed, invoking the old "He likes it! Mikey likes it!" commercials for LIFE cereal.

Jessie and I both laughed. Jessie is sweet and kind, like Halley, but unlike Halley, she is smart and able to have a more intellectual conversation. I never really realized this about her before that evening. She was someone that I'd like to get to know better. And I'd like to help her get away from Rowan's efforts to take over her life. No one deserves Rowan's interference in their personal life.

* * *

A rainy Saturday evening in March found my father and me watching the History Channel. Halley had called and invited me to go to A Modern Cup of Joe for open-mike night with some of her friends from community college but I'd declined because I didn't really know any of them. Andrew was somewhere with Ethan, suffering most likely. Rowan was torturing Jessie. Nina and Charlie were having a date night. And I was bored. The History Channel really isn't my cup of tea. I was working on a blanket for Nina and Charlie's baby. But I really wanted to talk to someone. I missed Holden taking me out on dates. I didn't really like him but he paid attention to me. And I liked that. I liked having people notice me. So what if I'm a little egotistical or self-centered? I have my own TV show! I'm allowed to be self-centered, a least a little. I'm no diva or anything. I still make my own coffee and buy my own clothes. I'm a normal person.

But I shouldn't spend my Saturday nights at home watching the History Channel with my dad. That's more than a little bit pathetic. I'm Emma Woodhouse and I should not be home alone on a weekend. But I had no one to call and ask to rescue me.

* * *

The following Monday morning, March 22, was a long day. We had new promos to shoot for several spring shows including our annual Passover meal that we cooked in honor of Nina's Jewish heritage. It was an extraordinarily popular episode every year. Jessie offered to prepare a vegan Passover meal but Nina shot that idea down. "I'm not a vegan and one of the important parts of the episode is the use of my family's lamb recipes."

"Lamb?" Jessie repeated. "You eat the poor innocent baby lambs? But they're so cute and darling."

Nina was ordinarily a patient person. But she was six months pregnant and she was tired. Also, her family traditions were important to her. "Jessie, the Jewish people have been eating lamb as part of the Passover meal since the days of Moses. It is part of our tradition. We're not going to change just because the lambs are cute. In the real world, wolves kill the cute little lambs much more violently and painfully than we do."

"But wolves are lambs' natural predators."

"Jessie, we're not turning this into one of your animal rights' demonstrations. Survival of the fittest says kill or be killed. To uphold my place on the food chain, I'll keep eating the dead baby sheep; thank you very much."

"But you're a pregnant woman. How can you say things like that?"

"I need to eat and my daughter needs to eat. I'm simply ensuring our survival."

"You disgust me!" Jessie snapped and walked out of my office.

I looked at Andrew who just shrugged. "Tree-hugger," he muttered as the door to my office slammed shut.

Nina rested her hands on her swollen belly and sighed. "She normally seems so nice but she becomes almost psychotic when it comes to vegetarianism."

"I don't see why she couldn't do a small segment on a vegan Passover meal."

"Because she wouldn't agree to do a small segment and you know it, Emma!" Nina snapped. "She'd want to do a special episode."

"We don't have the budget for a special vegan Passover meal episode," Andrew sighed. "We already have the Easter episode and the Passover episode. And she's doing a vegan segment in the Easter episode. Frank from the network called me and told me to start keeping a closer eye on the spending for the vegan segments. Apparently, while Jessie was helping Emma, she pushed us over budget for the first time in the show's run."

"Are you serious?" I asked.

He nodded. "You, like your mom, have always preached economy. You talk about shopping at local grocery stores while she talks about Trader Joe's and Whole Foods. Now, those are both great stores. But they have repeatedly taken episodes over budget. And the network doesn't want to increase our budget. Furthermore, they're not interested in giving Jessie her own show if she keeps pushing your show over budget. To be honest, Jessie might do well to try to find a job as a chef in a restaurant again and try again with the Food Network at a later date."

"She's not going to like that idea," I said.

"I know, Red," Andrew replied. "But I don't like the idea of explaining going hundreds of dollars over budget on brands that don't sponsor the show. If you use Ocean Spray dried cranberries, Ocean Spray gives us and the network more sponsorship. But if she uses some local organic farmer, we get nothing out of that financially."

I nodded. "It's a numbers game."

"Life is a numbers game, Em. I hate it but it is. I don't want to encourage Rowan in her insistence that Jessie should leave the cooking business because Jessie shouldn't. But for now, she'd be better suited to a kitchen somewhere. She'd be a great service to a vegan restaurant somewhere."

I nodded. "But I'm not going to be the one to tell her."

He smiled. "I'll wait until after the rest of her scheduled segments are done and then talk to her about it."

"Be nice."

"Yes, mother," he replied with a smirk.

Nina rolled her eyes. "You two forgot that I was in the room again."

"Sorry," Andrew and I said in unison before bursting out in laughter-in unison, again. We know each other far too well. We really are like brother and sister.

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: I don't own the obvious. And I really love and appreciate my reviewers.

**

* * *

Chapter 14**

* * *

Holden called me a week before Easter to announce that he was coming to Highbury for Easter. "And I expect to see you while I'm there. I'll be there for at least two weeks."

I groaned internally but told him that I would definitely make room for him in my schedule. And then I began to hope that he wouldn't give me anymore pink flowers. I couldn't keep smiling over flowers I didn't like. And I couldn't keep Andrew's mouth shut eternally. I couldn't keep him from telling Holden that I really wanted purple gerbera daisies. Sooner or later, the truth would come out and things would get messy. Eventually he'd find out that I was giving his flowers to Halley. Maybe I should have just told him that I wasn't interested in him and I didn't want his flowers anymore.

* * *

Halley was still demonstrating an interest in Andrew. This confused me and I hoped that Holden's visit would help her to reevaluate her priorities and show her where her heart really wanted to be. She didn't really like Andrew; he was too good for someone like her. He's smart and sensible and logical. And she isn't. She doesn't know all of his quirks and idiosyncrasies. And she doesn't like it when he grows a beard. I learned this when Andrew decided to stop shaving for a week "just to see what happens."

He got really scruffy, really fast. "You kind of remind me of Maks on _Dancing with the Stars_," I told him four days after he started growing the beard.

Andrew laughed. "That wasn't what I was going for but okay."

"I'm not complaining," I told him. "I think it's actually a decent look for you."

"Halley told me I looked like a mountain man."

I laughed. "Was that a good or bad thing in her opinion?"

"I'm not sure."

I found out a few hours later. "Can you please ask Andrew to shave?" Halley asked me when she came into my office with my mail. "The beard is so gross."

"I think he looks like Maks from _Dancing with the Stars_."

"I don't know who that is but he must be ugly. Andrew's killing his natural good looks and charm."

I smiled. "Sweetie, he's doing an experiment. He wants to know what he looks like with a beard."

"Bad," she said flatly. "He looks bad."

I shrugged. "It's a matter of opinion."

She shook her head. "No, Emma, you're wrong. He looks bad. He looks all gross and mountain-man-like. It needs to go and you have to tell him."

"He's one my best friends and has been since childhood. So, no, I'm not going to tell him to shave his beard."

She sighed. "But it looks bad."

"I'm not doing it, Halley. I won't. Andrew is my friend and I respect his decisions."

She rolled her eyes. "But friends don't let friends make dumb decisions."

"There's a difference between driving drunk and growing a beard."

She didn't have a response to that and simply left my office.

* * *

The Sunday before Easter, my sister arrived in town with her family. They were planning on staying for a week and a half. I never could exactly understand why or how but they managed to take eight or ten days off from work with less trouble than anyone else I knew. I couldn't get away with that sort of thing. But it was nice to have Ava, Jack, and the kids around. My father loved fussing over Carson and little Emma. Andrew came to stay at our house while they were there so he could see them more. Also, he was great at keeping the kids away from Grandpa Henry's insistence that they wash their hands every thirty minutes and take two-hour naps twice a day. My father could be ridiculous with his germ phobia and obsession with health and cleanliness.

* * *

The day after their arrival, I found him in the living room with Carson giving him a lecture about proper sanitation. My poor nephew, who was barely three years old, looked bewildered. "But why do I have to wash my hands all the time?" he asked pitifully.

"You don't," I told him. "You're going to play in the sandbox with Uncle Andrew and me."

"Not the sandbox, Emma!" my father yelled as I walked out of the room. "It's dirty. He might eat sand or worms or something."

"He'll be with Andrew and me, Dad. He'll be fine."

"Just don't let him eat sand," my father called after me as I walked out of the room. "And tell Andrew to shave that damn beard of his."

* * *

"We're not allowed to let him eat sand," I told Andrew when I got to the kitchen. "And my dad wants you to shave."

"Jack thinks the beard is badass," he replied as he helped Carson put on his coat. "The beard stays."

I laughed. "I like the beard. It is kind of badass."

"Carson, your aunt is a very smart lady."

"She's pretty too," my nephew replied.

I kissed his cheek. "You're a smart boy."

He smiled. "Can we go play now? I want to play in the sandbox."

Andrew grinned and I laughed. My nephew would get dirty but we'd give him a bath and put him in clean clothes after we came inside. To be honest, I think my father had long forgotten what children are like. Andrew and I both know to wear jeans and t-shirts when playing with Carson, not our work clothes. We know that he'll get messy and eat dirt. But we both ate dirt as children and it doesn't seem to have affected either one of us negatively. Oh Daddy, you are something else.

* * *

We spent two hours in the sandbox and we all needed showers or baths when we came inside. Somehow, Carson had decided to pour a bucket of sand over his uncle's head. Thankfully, Andrew had closed his eyes before Carson started pouring. And I was able to stop him before he poured very much sand. But nevertheless, Andrew needed a shower. "You've got sand in your hair and your beard."

"Red, I've got sand in my clothes, even in my boxers. You can deal with Carson. I'm dealing with the shower immediately."

I smiled and shoved him towards the stairs. "Go, but make sure my dad doesn't see you."

He laughed and ran out of the room as Ava came into the room. "Don't let Dad see you," she said, taking Carson from me. "Go shower and I'll clean him up."

"Funny," I said.

"What?" she asked.

"I just told Andrew the same thing."

My older sister smiled. "Well, little mother, you should go shower."

"Little mother?" I repeated.

"You're such a mother-hen to Andrew. You think that no one notices but we all know how you two are basically playing house together."

"We're best friends, Ava. We have been for ages. We're not playing house or trying to hide a romantic relationship. We're just friends."

She smiled. "Famous last words, baby sister; those are famous last words."

* * *

Holden arrived on Wednesday and wanted to take me out for dinner that night. I told him that he should spend his first night in town with Charlie and Nina and he could see me later in the week. "You'll be here for two weeks," I said. "You've got plenty of time to see me."

"Fine, Thursday night it is."

I sighed. "You're persistent."

"I know what I want and I'll do anything in my power to get it."

I rolled my eyes but was glad that he couldn't see it. "Hold your horses, boy. I'll see you Thursday."

* * *

But of course, the doorbell rang around ten on Wednesday night. Before I opened the door, I knew it was Holden. I opened the door and he kissed me. "I've missed you so much," he said before handing me a bouquet of a dozen purple gerbera daisies.

I grinned as I took the bouquet. "These are my favorite flowers! And these ones are so pretty."

"They're almost as pretty as you are," he said.

"Thank you," I said, sure that my face was now almost as red as my hair.

"Now say that you'll come out for a beer with me."

"Holden, it's ten-thirty on a Wednesday night in Highbury. Nothing is open anymore."

"Is the grocery store still open?"

I nodded.

"Okay, let's go buy a six-pack and sit in my car and talk."

"Holden, my sister and brother-in-law are here."

"Babe, you're being so lame. Come on. Please, let's just go."

"I'm wearing jeans and a sweatshirt."

He shrugged. "You look fine to me. Stop feeding me your excuses and just come."

I sighed. "Fine, let me put on some shoes and put the flowers in water."

"You're amazing."

"Just wait inside by the door for a minute."

* * *

"You're going out with Holden at this hour?" Jack asked when I got to the kitchen where he and Andrew were drinking beer and playing poker.

I shrugged. "He wants to talk."

"He finally got you the right flowers," Andrew said.

"I know! Aren't they pretty?"

"I'd bet Nina bought them for him."

I glared at him. "Why would you think that?"

He shrugged. "She's your best friend but she wants you to get together with Holden. And she knows that those are your favorite flowers. I could see her buying you that bouquet and telling him to give it to you."

Jack picked up the paper. "They're from Forde's and it says they were packaged yesterday. You know as well as I do that Nina drives by Forde's on her way home every day. And I doubt that Holden knows where Forde's is."

I grabbed the paper from him and threw it away. "He's sent me flowers from Forde's before. You're just trying to ruin my relationship because you don't want me to have fun. You want me to be lame like Andrew."

Andrew rolled his eyes. "Go drink beer with your hippie and leave us lame Knightley men alone with our beer."

I didn't say anything as I stormed out of the kitchen.

* * *

"Do you ever wear anything other than your Chucks?" Holden asked as we pulled out of the driveway.

"I wear flip-flops in the summer."

He rolled his eyes. "So you never wear dress shoes or ballet flats or stilettos?"

"I own two pairs of ballet flats and I wear them sometimes. But I'm pretty loyal to my Chucks. I have like five or six pairs of them. I love them so much."

"Can I ask why?"

"They're comfortable."

"Lots of shoes are comfortable."

"Okay," I said. "But Chucks have character. They make a statement."

Holden shrugged. "They say that you're wearing what are essentially really colorful sneakers."

"My mom bought me my first pair of Chucks. And she had always been the type who wore really classy shoes. When she hosted the cooking show, she always wore heels. So it was a really big deal for me when she agreed to buy me a pair of Chucks."

"So it's a sentimental thing."

"I guess."

"But is it something you think you'll eventually grow out of?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you want to be seventy and still wearing Chucks?"

"Yep," I replied firmly. "I'm going to get special-order Chucks with orthopedic soles."

He laughed. "You are ridiculous."

"I think I'm rather sweet," I replied, referencing a line from _The Philadelphia Story_.

Holden, however, didn't catch the reference and just rolled his eyes. "You're sassy and I like sassy. I may have to try to get in on the action while I'm in town. Andrew shouldn't think he can corner the action on the feisty Emma Woodhouse."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh don't be coy with me. Everyone knows that you and Andrew are fooling around together behind the scenes. No one will ever say anything but they all know what you two are doing when you have your meetings. That's why Rowan hates you so much. She's stuck with boring Ethan while you've got Andrew who is more innovative and exciting."

My stomach suddenly felt sick, very sick.

* * *

"Did you know that people think we're sleeping together?" I asked Andrew the next morning as soon as I found him. He was in the kitchen eating breakfast, of course.

"You haven't had enough coffee," he said, refilling the mug in my hand. "Last I heard, gossip said that I was sleeping with Jessie."

"Now it says that we're sleeping together."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm promiscuous. Red, I'm a male slut."

"This isn't funny! People can't think we're sleeping together. We aren't! We fucking aren't sleeping together."

"Think about what you just said," he said with a smirk and a chuckle.

"Shut up, Knightley! This isn't funny."

"Okay, so you don't think this is funny. I think it is."

"Why do you find this funny?"

He sighed. "Em, our audience is rooting for us to get together. Our crew apparently thinks we are together. I find that amusing because we aren't. I'm single and you're with Holden or whatever."

"I'm not with Holden."

"That's news to me."

I shrugged. "He kisses me and gives me flowers but he hasn't actually ever said anything about being together."

"So you're letting him use you?"

"No," I said, shoving my cup of coffee at him and somehow leaving a large coffee stain on his shirt.

"Damn, woman, calm down."

I poured the rest of the cup over his head. "I'm not letting anyone use me. I'm having fun. I'm sowing my wild oats."

"And I'm going to get cleaned up."

"Have fun with that."

Andrew sighed. "Emma, you've got to calm down."

"Go to hell."

"I do not understand you," he said as he left the room.

"I hate you!" I yelled after him.

And then Jessie walked into the room. "Emma, you need to calm down. Maybe you should try aromatherapy."

"Fuck you!" I screamed in her face before running out of the room.

* * *

Half an hour later, Nina found me crumpled in the armchair in my office. "Em, dear, people are worried about me."

"They shouldn't be," I replied. "I'm an evil witch. I scream at everyone. And I'm a slut."

"How do you figure that one?" Pregnancy was making Nina very maternal-and very erratic in her behavior.

"Everyone thinks I'm sleeping with Andrew."

"No, Ethan and Rowan think that. Everyone else knows better."

"And Andrew doesn't like Holden."

She ran a hand over my head. "Honey, he's worried about you. He cares about you. You guys have been best friends forever. And he doesn't know Holden very well. He just wants what's best for you."

"Then he should try getting to know Holden."

"I'll suggest that to him, sweets. But in the mean time, you need to be patient with him."

"I don't want to be patient. I want to be right."

"Emma, you're being ridiculous."

I sighed. "I'm sick of everyone treating me like I'm being immature. I'm tired and stressed and I want to be right."

"You need a vacation."

"I know. Let's run away to Cancun."

"Can we wait until I'm not pregnant anymore?"

"Nah, I'll take Andrew with me instead. I'll just give Rowan and Ethan something to talk about."

She laughed. "You do need a vacation. We'll talk about it. Maybe you can go visit your sister for a week or go to Chicago for a week or something. But you need a break."

"I like the idea of a break."

"Good, now go talk to Andrew. He's worried about you."

"Let him worry. I want to sleep."

"You have an episode to shoot."

* * *

So I apologized to Andrew and the world kept turning. And I couldn't figure out whether or not I really liked Holden. But Andrew's beard stayed; it looked like it would be a permanent fixture. And somehow, that made me really happy.

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: If you recognize it, I don't own it. Also, I hope you enjoy it. And please do review; reviews make my day. Thank you very much to everyone who has reviewed. You guys are great.

**

* * *

Chapter 15**

* * *

"Emma needs a vacation," Nina announced as she dragged me into Andrew's office the Friday before Easter.

"Don't we all?" Andrew replied crisply without looking up from his computer.

"No, Andrew, I'm serious. She's going to have a nervous breakdown if we don't send her on a vacation."

I sighed. "I like it when people talk about me like I'm not here."

"Why are you going to have a nervous breakdown if I don't send you on vacation?" Andrew asked.

"I'm stressed," I replied.

"So am I."

"Then come with me," I replied. "We can go to Cancun or something."

He smiled. "I'll think about it."

"Another email from the network?" I asked.

He nodded. "No more Jessie segments, they're too expensive. And now I have to go tell her that."

"I'm going to hide someplace," I told him. "I like her a lot of the time and I don't want to be around when you upset her."

"Thanks," he replied with a dry laugh. "I'll come find you when it's over and tell you how it went. I'll use vivid details."

"Don't feel obligated."

He smiled. "Oh but I already do. Now get out of here. It's the Friday before Easter and I gave everyone a half day. Nina, go home and enjoy your weekend."

"He'll see you at dinner on Sunday," I told her.

She laughed. "I'll see you both at dinner on Sunday. Have a good weekend and tell me how things go with Jessie."

"I'll spare you all the gory details," Andrew replied.

"He likes you more than he likes me," I told her as she left.

"False," he said after Nina was gone. "It's just more fun to annoy you. You're not all crabby and hormonal whenever I tell you about something I did that I think was funny and she thinks was cruelty to God's creatures."

"I'm also not seven months pregnant."

"Thank heaven for small favors."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"If you were pregnant, then I'd have to deal with you going on maternity leave and that'd be another headache with the network. I just need things to be simple around here for a while. Now go enjoy your weekend while I go ruin Jessie's."

I smiled. "If you need me, I'll be in the library."

* * *

An hour passed before Andrew finally came looking for me. "She's distraught," he told me when he walked into the room. "I feel like a horrible person."

"I'm sorry," I said. "Did she yell or throw things?"

"No, she just looked really sad and said that now she was going to have to look for a job and she wasn't sure how easy it would be to find one. She was really banking on being able to keep doing segments around here and then ultimately getting her own show."

I sighed. "Poor kid, it will be rough for her. But hopefully having us on her resume and as recommendations will help her."

"Hopefully," he said. But it really seemed to be bothering Andrew. He liked Jessie more than I did and he would take this to heart. The network had been bothering him a lot lately and he wasn't doing well emotionally. He had been getting really stressed and just seemed upset. He wasn't as talkative or as teasing as usual. Instead, he'd been bitter and sarcastic. And Holden's arrival had not improved Andrew's mood. I hadn't expected that it would but it was just one more thing bringing out the darker side of my usual happy-go-lucky best friend. He hadn't called me "Red" since Holden arrived. Andrew was not in a good place; he, like me, was stressed out and needed a vacation. Cancun was starting to sound better and better.

* * *

Before we could go anywhere, we had to push through the next several episodes and decide where we were going-if we went anywhere. The next several weeks were difficult for a variety of reasons. Jessie was upset. Halley was constantly finding evidence of Andrew's love for her despite the fact that he seemed to be ignoring her as far as everyone else could tell. Rowan was being the uber-bitch. Ethan was spending too much time watching _Glee_ and trying to convince me to sing on camera. Holden was driving me nuts. Nina was overly hormonal and apparently varied between feeling like a whale or a cow. Andrew was moody. And I was cranky. I didn't want to sing. I wanted Rowan to stop trying to find Jessie other jobs that had nothing to do with cooking. I wished that Rowan could understand the importance of the culinary arts. But she was self-centered and couldn't see how what she was doing affected other people. She wanted to adopt Jessie and make her into some sort of a project. She was even trying to convince Jessie to stop being a vegan and had begun this project by inviting Jessie over for dinner and serving only meat-based dishes. Jessie hadn't eaten anything and had come home very upset.

Tensions were running high and I was just trying to keep the peace around the set and around my personal life. Unfortunately, it's hard to keep the peace when you're cranky. People piss you off when you're trying to calm down their disagreements.

My relationship with Holden could be described as "she lies and says she's in love with him, can't find a better man." I could find a better man than Holden but I couldn't shake him. The flowers kept coming-and being handed off to Halley. I was still going out to dinner with him or going out for a beer with him. But I kept saying that I'd do the same thing with Andrew. Andrew and I eat dinner together on a regular basis and drink beer together. But it wasn't the same with Holden. There was a kind of pressure there that was never there with Andrew. Holden was always wanting more, more, and even more. Friendship wasn't good enough for him. And then going on dates wasn't enough. He kept pushing me for more. Kissing, touching, and pushing-that was Holden's style.

* * *

So I began cooking more than normal in my free time. Late April in west Michigan is not really the time to start cooking crap-loads of food but whatever. I didn't care. Just because I couldn't get fresh fruits and veggies out of my garden didn't mean that I couldn't go to the grocery store to find inspiration. I was also keeping Joyce, Nina, and Andrew well-stocked in homemade jams, jellies, sauces, and sorbets. "You're going to make me fat," Andrew told me one night as he helped me make apple-cranberry jam.

I laughed as I held a spoon in his face. "Just taste this and tell me if you think it's too sweet or too tart."

He opened his mouth and I popped the spoon into his mouth. He licked his lips and grinned. "It's perfect, Red. How are you so good at cooking?"

I stuck the spoon in my mouth and raised my eyebrows. "This is fucking fabulous. Andrew, I've outdone myself today."

He laughed. "You're amazing, Em. I'd seriously just move into this house and put up with your father if I could be sure that I'd eat your cooking every day for the rest of my life."

"I already feed you lunch five days a week and you're here for dinner almost daily. What else could you want?"

"Breakfast," he replied. "Scones, muffins, biscuits, quiches, and breakfast casseroles, think of it! Just think about it. It would be so good."

"I've done episodes about breakfast before."

"No, silly, not for the show but for me," he said. "You could do experiments on me. It would be great."

I laughed. "You're ridiculous. One minute you're telling me that I'm going to make you fat and the next you're trying to get me to feed you more food."

"What can I say? I'm a very confused individual."

"Andrew, you are something else."

"I know, Red," he replied with a playful smirk. "But how else could we ever be friends?"

I hugged him and realized-not for the first time-how lucky I was to have Andrew as my best friend.

* * *

Holden came over while I was making vegan chocolate banana-nut bread for Joyce and Jessie a few days later. He was an unexpected guest and barely welcome. My dad and Andrew were watching tennis and drinking wine together in another room. This was a major sacrifice on Andrew's part; he prefers beer to wine and he doesn't really like tennis. But he was doing it because he felt bad for my dad.

I was listening to the _Amelie_ soundtrack, one of my favorite albums, while cooking. And then Holden arrived, bringing with him his usual wave of chaos and confusion. If Holden were in a bottle, it would be labeled "organic chaos."

"Is that for me?" he asked as I shoved another pan of bread into the oven.

"Did you let yourself in?" I asked as I stood up.

"Sure thing," he replied with a grin. "I figured you were probably pretty open-minded and into that whole 'mi casa, tu casa' thing."

"It's nine-thirty on a Wednesday night," I snapped. "And I was enjoying some time by myself and baking."

"But you know what's better than time by yourself? Time with me," he replied smugly. "Who is that bread-stuff for?"

"Jessie Fairfax," I replied. "She's a vegan, so I made her vegan chocolate banana bread. I know that's her favorite bread."

"Damn that Jessie, she's so boring. Did you ever find out anything about that Dixon dude I told you about?"

"I forgot all about it," I replied in complete honesty. Jessie's personal life (or lack thereof) was none of my business. She wasn't the sort of person I could find a boyfriend for. And now could I turn Holden's attention away from me and on to Halley? She'd be so much better for him than I would? I'm much better off on my own.

"Damn it, you were supposed to be my source of information this."

"Holden, I'm tired and crabby right now. Please go away."

"I know a way to make you feel better," he said, putting his hands around my waist and kissing my cheek.

I swatted him. "No, Holden, stop it."

"Oh come on, Emma; have some fun with me."

"This isn't fun," I said, trying to pull away from him. Why couldn't Andrew walk into the room just at this juncture in time and save me? He was always walking into my office at inopportune moments-like right in the middle of an episode of _Arrested Development_ on Hulu. Why couldn't he walk into the kitchen at a really opportune moment like this?

"Baby, loosen up," he said, running his hands down my hips.

"You know I could sue your ass for sexual harassment if you don't get your hands off of mine."

He sighed, took his hands off my body, and walked away from me. He leaned against the sink and shook his head. "I just don't understand you, Emma. Your body and your mouth say two different things. You want me but you won't admit it."

"Is that what you think? Are you so cocky, so full of yourself that you think that you're some kind of god and every woman who sees you falls in love with you instantaneously?"

"Who wouldn't want me?"

I sighed. "Just get out. I don't have the time or the energy for you tonight."

"You've gotten boring like Jessie. I'm out of here. Have fun watching murder mysteries and knitting, Grandma."

* * *

Holden had stung my pride and that only increased my crabbiness. I was a pain in the ass and I knew it. I snapped everyone, even Ava. She called me, asked me how I was doing, and I told her that I wanted to go jump in Lake Michigan. "Or maybe you should do it. I don't really care. I hate people and I want them all to die."

"Well, that's a friendly way to greet your sister."

"I'm pissed and I don't care who knows it."

"What would you have done if it had been someone from the Food Network calling when you answered the phone like that?"

"I have Caller ID, Ava. I'm not stupid, just angry."

She laughed. "Oh, Em, you need a vacation."

"Everyone keeps telling me that."

"Then take a vacation even if it's just a weekend trip to Chicago. But stay for four days, not just two."

"But who would stay with Dad?"

"Don't worry about that," my sister replied. "I'll take care of that. I could fly up to Michigan for a long weekend; I bet that Carson would love going to the beach. Or maybe Joyce's mom could stay with them. You know that they're friends."

"I guess. Nina's been on my case about this for a week or two now. And Andrew needs a break too. He's lost his sense of humor."

"Perfect," Ava said. "You two can go to Chicago together."

"Nina suggested that I go to Cancun."

"Take Andrew with you."

I sighed. "I know that you and Jack want me to hook up with Andrew."

"It's a great idea."

"But it'll never happen!" I protested.

"Oh little sister, how much you have to learn yet," my older sister replied. "Never say 'never;' you could live to regret it."

I laughed. "I'll talk to Andrew about the possibility of going on a trip with me."

"And don't take Holden with me."

"Oh, don't worry. He's on my bad side right now."

"Good, keep him there. Jack doesn't like him."

Jack is so much like his brother in some ways. It can be unbearable but it can also be wonderful. "I'll see what I can do, Ava."

"Wonderful, and let me know what you and Andy-boy decide to do."

"Obviously," I replied. "Anything else that we need to talk or should I hang up on you?"

"Well, I had something else I wanted to ask you about but your darling namesake just woke up from her nap half an hour early and started screaming. So I'm going to deal with Princess Buttercup and I'll talk to you later."

"Au revoir," I replied. "I love you, Ava. Give those kids kisses from their Auntie Emma."

"I'll tell them that Auntie Em sends her love from Kansas. Hey, maybe you and Andrew could go to Kansas! You guys both love the band named Kansas." And then she started singing the beginning "Dust in the Wind."

"Good-bye, Ava," I replied.

"Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea," she continued.

"I'm not going to Kansas with Andrew, Ava Marie. And that's that."

* * *

That night I was lying on the couch reading a play by Oscar Wilde and listening to Michael Buble on my iPod when I felt something cold pressed against my forehead. I looked up to see Andrew standing over me with a bottle of Killian's in his hand. "Gimme," I said, pausing my music and holding out a hand.

He laughed and put a bottle of beer in my hand before coming around to sit in my dad's recliner. "How goes the war?"

I shook my head. "My sister says that we should go to Chicago together for a four-day weekend sometime soon."

"Sure, you two could do some shopping and get away from your lives. You could go to a spa. It'd be good for both of you. But you'd need to bring little Emma with you. I think Ava is still nursing her."

"She is," I replied. "And she wasn't suggesting a sister-bonding trip. She thought that you and I should go together."

"I'm not going to the spa."

"The spa was your idea, not mine."

"Right," he replied. "I knew that."

"Nina thinks we should go to Cancun. What do you think?"

"Is Nina paying for this trip?"

I laughed. "So you're more in favor of Chicago."

He nodded. "And we have to go to Ed Debevic's."

I laughed. "I do not understand why you love that place so much."

"You love it more. You always resist going but then you end up loving it more each time than you did the time before."

"So when are we going?"

"Soon," he said. "And we can't tell people that we're going because otherwise we'll end up with ninety-five people tagging along. And I refuse to do Chicago with Ethan, Rowan, AND you. That's just too much for me."

I laughed. "Mid-May would be good; we want to be back before Nina has her baby."

"Amalia Rose Weston," he said.

"Is that her latest name?"

"Charlie really likes that one and I think Nina will let him name this one since he didn't get any say in Holden's name."

"Amalia Rose is really pretty."

He nodded. "I like it. But I also like Hannah Clare and Elizabeth Jane. But Nina doesn't like Elizabeth Jane or the name Clare."

"What does she think of Hannah Clarissa?"

He shrugged. "I've never asked her."

"I like it. It's got style. It's classy."

"Note to self," Andrew said. "Emma will someday have a daughter named Hannah Clarissa."

I smiled. "It's a definitely possibility."

"Thank you, magic eight ball," he replied before winking at me and taking a sip of his beer.

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: I don't own what you recognize. Please review. I will try to stop neglecting you my poor wonderful readers.

* * *

Holden disappeared from my life and off into the attic at Charlie's house so that he could be an artist. And with that, I relaxed and finally began to feel more comfortable about life. And Andrew and I started planning a four-day trip to Chicago together, "just two friends relaxing and finally getting a break from the craziness of our shitty lives," as Andrew said. I thought he was being a little overdramatic but I agreed that we both needed an escape. I needed to spend time away from my dad and Joyce and Jessie and everything. And Ava was convinced that it was just what I needed to "clear your head out about the men in your life." I sighed when she told me that but then quickly promised to visit her at least once the following summer.

"And I'll bring Andrew with me," I promised.

"Good, Carson keeps asking for him."

"And he doesn't ask for me?"

Ava laughed. "You don't play football or soccer, Em. You're not as exciting as Uncle Andy."

"Fine, I'll play with my namesake."

"A good choice," my sister replied. "She's learning to sit up and it's so cute. I'll have to send you some videos."

"Definitely," I said. My niece was a little over six months old and growing rapidly. At least once a week, Andrew and I would look over pictures and videos that Ava or Jack had posted on Facebook or YouTube and talk about how our niece and nephew were the cutest, the smartest, and the best-behaved children in the world. We both know that we're crazy but we love the little ones and we can't help it.

* * *

Nina seemed startled by the sudden change in Holden. "He's moody and awkward. He used to be so social and friendly," she told me over lunch one day about a week before my trip with Andrew.

I shrugged. "He's seemed a little off ever since he got back from Arizona but I couldn't tell you why it is."

She took a bite of her salad and thought for a moment or two. "I'd think it was over a woman but then I'd have to suspect you."

I laughed. "I hope to God that I have nothing to do with this."

"I doubt that you do," Nina replied. "Charlie thinks that something happened when Holden went home."

"Did his mom do something?"

She shrugged. "I don't know much about Holden's relationship with his mom and since Holden turned eighteen, Charlie's barely heard a word out of Gwen."

"She sounds like an odd duck."

"She's an artist. That's Charlie's explanation for her."

"I thought she was an English professor or something."

Nina shook her head. "No, her parents were. She's an artist, always has been. And she is very much of an artistic personality. She's very nice but rather unusual. You've probably noticed some of her influence in her son."

I smiled. "He is unique."

"I just hope that he comes out of his hermit's garret long enough to attend Andrew's party on Saturday night."

"That would be nice," I said. "It'd be nice to have more guys there than Ethan, Charlie, Andrew, and my dad."

Nina nodded. "I'll tell Charlie to talk to him."

"You think that he'll listen to Charlie?"

She shrugged. "I could pull the pregnancy card on him."

I laughed. "You're a dear."

"I know that I'm a monster and I drive everyone nuts. I can hear Rowan when she's ranting about me."

"I still love you," I told her, squeezing her hand. "You're a great friend and I know that this will pass. I remember Ava when she was pregnant with first Carson and then with Emma. You're far more bearable than she was."

Nina laughed. "I like you. You're an optimist."

"I resent the implications of that statement," I replied.

"And I disagree with said implications," Andrew said, sitting down at the table in the breakfast nook where Nina and I were eating leftovers from the morning's show.

Nina smiled. "She can be an optimist."

"When she wants," Andrew replied. "But usually, she's more of a cynic. She likes to think the best of people but she generally believes it to be impossible to actually believe that it's true."

"You're weird," I told him.

"I know that and more things besides."

"Like what?" I asked.

"You're nosey," he said.

"You bated me."

"True story," he said, leaning back in his chair. "So do you want to know what I know?"

I nodded.

He smiled. "Rowan found Jessie a job as a nanny in Grand Rapids."

"Why did she do that?"

"She has a friend who needs a nanny and she thinks that Jessie needs a new job and someone to take care of her. So she is taking care of Jessie and figuring everything out for her."

"I bet Jessie just loves that."

"I don't know. I heard it from Joyce."

I shook my head. "I hate the gossip mill around here."

He smiled. "I know you do. But it's fun to tell you what it's reporting."

"Andrew, you're almost as bad as a girl."

My two best friends laughed. "Red, you're ridiculous," Andrew told me.

I smiled. "It's my special talent. I'm a ridiculous redhead. It's alliterative, so it makes me look and sound cooler."

He laughed. "You're crazy. You're cute, sweet, smart, and fun, but damn, you are crazy, girl."

"And yet you're still willing to go to Chicago with me for a long weekend."

"Chicago?" Ethan repeated, suddenly appearing behind Andrew. "You're going to Chicago next weekend. Why didn't you tell me? Rowan and I love Chicago and we'd love to come with you."

"We were just looking for some R&R," I replied.

"We didn't realize that anyone would want to come with us," Andrew added.

"What are you talking about?" Ethan asked. "Rowan and I would love to come with you. Andrew, we could do all kinds of manly things like hit up strip clubs and drink beer and the ladies could have a spa day."

I didn't want a spa day alone with Rowan. But she had suddenly appeared out of thin air and was deciding where we should go. "And we'll invite dear Jessie to come with us. It'll be her last fling before she goes off to be a nanny."

"So she is going?" I asked as I ran my finger around the rim of my coffee mug.

"Of course she's going," Rowan said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Why on earth wouldn't she go? Mrs. Chester seems like a perfectly respectable woman and her mother is in my mother's bridge club. My mother says that the four Chester boys are perfect angels. Jessie will love the post and they will love her. It's ideal."

I smiled. "I'm sure it is. I just don't want Jessie to throw away her career a cook just because she didn't get her own show. She's a really talented cook."

"Oh, she can cook for the family. But she doesn't need to work in a restaurant. That's so silly. She's too good for that. Cooking is a household skill. Only immigrants and desperate people should work in restaurants."

And that was how we ended up going to Chicago with Ethan, Rowan, Holden, Jessie, and Joyce. Joyce had never been to Chicago, so we took her with us. Holden invited himself along when we saw him at Andrew's party; he said that he was looking for artistic inspiration and he felt that a trip to Chicago with friends would be the perfect impetus. And I knew that this trip was not going to be what I wanted it to be.

* * *

The night before we left for Chicago, Andrew and I made dinner together. We drank beer, watched _Gladiator_, and talked. He promised me that he wouldn't go to the strip club with Holden and Ethan-both of whom were gung-ho about the idea. He wasn't really interested in a strip club and I really didn't want him to go to one. The idea of Andrew-the uncle of my niece and nephew-watching other women strip and pole dance bothered me. And I don't want my best friend looking at naked women; that's just awkward.

"I don't even want to go anymore," he sighed. "It's not really going to be a vacation for us anymore. We're not getting away from the people who drive us crazy."

I smiled. "I know. Someday, we'll have to sneak off and make sure that no one, not even Nina or my dad knows where we're going."

He nodded. "I know. I'm never letting any of these people know where I'm going on vacation again. The next time we go on vacation, we should just run away to Monaco or Andorra, someplace where no one would ever look for us."

"I like the idea of Andorra," I told him. "Most people don't even know that it exists or where it is."

"We could go skiing."

"We could drink wine and eat cheese."

"We could really relax," he said with a contented sigh.

"When do you want to go?"

"Well, we need to go to Virginia in October for Mini-Emma's first birthday. And your dad will throw a fit if we're not around for Thanksgiving."

"Christmas!" I exclaimed. "We get two weeks off for Christmas."

"I like it," Andrew replied. "Your dad might not but I do."

* * *

The idea of Christmas in Europe helped me get through our five-hour drive to Chicago. I was in a car with Holden, Jessie, and Joyce. It was never quiet in our car, but I doubted that things were any better for Andrew who was stuck in a car with Ethan and Rowan. I desperately wished that we hadn't ended up with tagalongs. But what could we do? We were stuck and we'd just have to make the best of a bad situation.

Most of the trip was spent listening to Joyce comment over the scenery (and smells) between Highbury and Chicago. I wasn't allowed to turn on the radio because Holden didn't like listening to radio in the car. (I could have sworn he'd had it on when he was driving me places before but maybe I was wrong. Or maybe he was lying.) He said that the radio wasn't organic enough for a road trip-whatever that meant. So we had to play all the typical road trip games that I'd never gotten to play before because my family didn't go on road trips. That was Jessie's idea; she said I needed to experience a real road trip because "It's part of growing up in America. You get into a crappy car and drive forever and play stupid games and get carsick but in the end it's totally worth it."

"But we're not driving a crappy car," Joyce remarked. "We're driving a 2009 Ford Focus."

"We'll survive," I said in a tone that I hoped was reassuring and not annoyed.

"But it won't be the same," she protested. "Jessie said that you're supposed to drive a crappy car on a road trip."

"Relax, Joyce," I said, trying to remain calm. "It'll be fine."

"Really, Auntie Joyce, it really will," Jessie added. "We can take a road trip in a crappy car another time. Chicago isn't really a crappy car place anyway."

"Oh," Joyce said. Then she stopped fussing and went back to commenting on the scenery outside.

* * *

We got to Chicago around mid-afternoon and checked into our hotel. Then we went out to the Magnificent Mile, because Rowan said that it was the most important thing to do in Chicago. I wanted to see Navy Pier and things like that as well but Rowan thought shopping was the most important thing we could do during our trip. I had gone to cooking school in Chicago and wasn't overly crazy about tourist traps. I'd rather see the lake or go see the real Chicago. But according to her, I needed to "spice up" my wardrobe, so we had to go shopping. I don't think the Magnificent Mile is the place for me to do that. My sense of fashion isn't necessarily the most traditional. I'm not known for shopping at Macy's or other corporate stores.

This was verified by Rowan's reaction to the outfit I was wearing when I emerged from my hotel room so that we could all go out together. I was wearing olive-green cargo pants, a dark purple tank top, a black jacket, and purple Chucks, and I was carrying a purple messenger bag over my shoulder. I thought I looked cute but Rowan was angry when she saw me. "What do you think you're wearing?" she asked.

"Clothes," I replied.

"Those are totally inappropriate for downtown Chicago. Can't you wear something a little more modern and a little less female paratrooper?"

She was wearing silver ballet flats, skinny jeans, and a red plaid tunic shirt; it was clearly modeled on a flannel shirt but designed to show off all of her best assets rather than keep a lumberjack warm and cozy. Clearly, she wanted me to follow in her footsteps.

"I'm comfortable," I replied.

"You look so boyish. Your hair is short and your clothes don't really show off your figure."

"I'm not trying to show off my figure. I just want to be comfortable while I walk around the city," I snapped back.

"You'll never get a boyfriend at this rate," was her snide reply.

"Maybe I enjoy being single."

"Freak," she muttered under her breath as Andrew walked towards us wearing khaki shorts and a Highbury College t-shirt. He received a glare from Rowan before she hugged him and told him what a dear he was for putting up with her and her "love muffin" on the drive to Chicago.

"That was awkward," I whispered to him when he had escaped her clutches.

"It wasn't as bad as the drive down," he replied. "They both insisted on sitting in the backseat so that I was alone in the front seat. I felt like some kind of taxi driver or chauffer."

"I had to play the license plate game."

"Oh, I like that game!"

"You're such a child," I sighed.

Andrew laughed. "And I don't care."

* * *

Once we were out walking and talking, Andrew grabbed my hand and pulled me behind the others. "Here's the deal. Tomorrow night, Holden and Ethan are going to a strip club while all the girls are going to a spa and then a club or something like that. You and I aren't going with them. We're going to Navy Pier for a quiet evening without the rest of this damn entourage."

"I like that idea very much."

"Good," he replied. "Now go and let Rowan use you as her Barbie."

I sighed. "I don't want to be anyone's Barbie."

"Too bad, I want to see you all cute tomorrow night."

"Aren't I cute now?"

"You're fucking adorable. But you know that's not really an outfit for an evening out in Chicago."

"And you're the fashion police now?" I asked.

"Uh, hello, this outfit will be all the rage in about two weeks."

I laughed. "Andrew, you are beyond belief. And watch out or you may find yourself the next one forced into new outfits."

"My wardrobe is fabulous. The rest of the world does not understand my wisdom."

"Fashion is so much easier for men than it is for women. You guys can get away with almost anything while we're constantly being compared to models."

"You're pretty, Red. You don't need to worry about what magazines say or anything like that."

I smiled. "You're too kind."

"Nah, you're just the only one around here that I can stand. Everyone else is nuts."

"Everyone's nuts but me and thee," I joked. "And I'm not so sure about thee."

"Oh, I'm nuts," Andrew replied. "But I'm not as bad as the rest of them."

"Nah, you're pretty fun most of the time."

* * *

The rest of the trip went pretty well until dinner on Sunday evening. Saturday evening with Andrew was great and fun and relaxing. No one was dithering or annoying. But by the end of the day on Sunday, I was done with Joyce and her dithering comments about "That building is so big!" (She was referring to the Sears Tower.) As we sat in Ed Debevic's and she talked about how stupid people must think she was, I wanted to slap her.

"I never went to college," she said. "And I'm not very funny or witty. I don't really get the sense of humor around here. Why are the waiters so rude?"

"It's a joke, Auntie," Jessie said calmly. "It's supposed to be fun."

"I must be too old and stupid for that kind of humor. I don't know any jokes. But I could say loads and loads of stupid things, if you wanted me to."

"Don't talk like that, Joyce," Andrew said quickly. "You're not an idiot."

"But I'm not smart like Emma or Jessie here. Emma is so smart and I'm just a boring old spinster."

"It happens to the best of us," I muttered. "Every village needs its idiot."

"I suppose so," Joyce said with a quivering lip.

"You're not stupid," Jessie persisted.

"But everyone knows that I am. Even Emma says it aloud."

Suddenly, I felt a firm hand on my shoulder and looked up at Andrew. "Come with me," he said in a low voice that I didn't like at all.

I followed him out of the restaurant. "Go home, Emma," he said. "Go back to the hotel. I'll take care of things here. But get out of here."

"Is this about Joyce?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "How dare you talk to her like that? She deserves your respect and you treat her like dirt."

"She's annoying and whiny and boring."

"And some people might find you equally so. Go home. I'll pay for your dinner but get out of here. You don't belong here anymore."

"I'm sorry, Andrew."

"Save it for Joyce," he replied in a cold, angry voice. "And you're driving Rowan and Ethan home tomorrow. I'm done with you and your childish behavior. Grow up, Emma. Just grow the fuck up and stop acting like Carson."

"I don't get why you act so high and mighty about my behavior but you never lecture Ethan."

He sighed. "Because I know what you could be, Emma; I know you and I know that you can be a great and wonderful woman. But you condescend to acting like Holden and Halley. You refuse to see things the way they really are. And it disgusts me."

A few minutes later, I was in a taxi on the way back to the hotel. I was alone with my thoughts. And I knew that I had lost Andrew's friendship. And I didn't know if I could get it back this time.

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: I don't own what you recognize. And I really love and appreciate my reviewers.

**

* * *

Chapter 17**

* * *

So we went back to Michigan. And I found myself being shunned by my best friend for the second time in less than a year and the second time in my life. I knew that I deserved it but that didn't make it any less painful. And naturally everyone was on his side. Well, my dad wasn't, but everyone else was. The really delightful and simultaneously frustrating thing about my father is his firm belief that I could never do anything wrong.

But I had done something wrong and I wasn't sure how to fix it. Well, I knew how to fix it with Joyce; a simple apology would cure everything there. But I knew that I had to fix things with Andrew and that would be far more difficult. I didn't know what I needed to do to make it better. I think that really I needed to show Andrew that I had changed and that I was done being a silly little girl and being petty. But I didn't know how to do that. I wasn't always as stupid as I had been during our trip. Normally, I didn't humiliate my friends. And yes, I do consider Joyce to be a friend. I don't always like her or enjoy her presence and she has a tendency to drive me nuts. But I think that most people who know her have that experience with her. But I needed to be better at expressing my emotions. I needed self control. And I needed patience with other people.

* * *

So I went to Joyce and apologized. Of course she accepted it. That was Joyce's style. I made her a batch of oatmeal chocolate-chip cookies (her favorite) and everything was back to normal. We were friends again. She was talking too much and telling me how wonderful and sweet and kind and patient I was. "You're too kind to put up with me. And you didn't have to make me cookies. You're such a sweetheart. You're too good to all of us."

"It's nothing, Joyce, really. But I stopped and I got your mother some loose-leaf mint tea at the food co-op. I thought she might like it."

"Oh, it's her favorite! She'll love this. You're too good to us, Emma. You didn't have to do this for us."

"Nonsense," I replied. "It's nothing, Joyce. I'm just trying to be nice."

"You're the nicest, sweetest girl I know other than dear Jessie," Joyce replied.

I smiled. "You're too kind, Joyce. Really, you are."

"Emma Woodhouse, what brings you here?" Joyce's mother asked as she walked into the room. "When are you going to finally marry that charming Andrew Knightley?"

"Andrew and I are just friends, Mrs. Bates. We've known each other forever and we're just friends," I said. "But it's lovely to see you again."

"You should marry him. He's a good man and he'd be a great mate for you."

"Now, now, Mother, we shouldn't push Emma. She's a spirited young woman with her own opinions. If she says that she isn't dating Andrew, then it's true."

Just then, my phone beeped and I pulled it out to see "NEW MSG." It was a text message from Halley telling me that she needed me back in my office ASAP. So I said good-bye to the Bates ladies and headed back to my office expecting some sort of crisis with the Food Network or the birth of Nina's baby.

* * *

But I had forgotten that it was Halley with whom I was dealing and not a more rational creature such as Andrew or Nina. This was the crisis: Halley, overwhelmed by her romantic feelings for Andrew and her conviction that he was in love with her, had asked him out on a date. Andrew, being Andrew, had said no. In fact, he had told her in rather blunt and certain terms that he was not interested in her and never had been. Furthermore, she would be better off sticking to men her own age. Needless to say, Halley had not taken this well. "I love him! I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him and he called me a child."

"Halley, you're barely twenty-one. You're several years younger than him."

"But I'm good enough for him. You said so yourself."

I had no recollection of saying as such and I told her so.

"You said that I was a great girl and any guy would be lucky to have me."

I had told her that when she was interested in Robbie Martin.

"You said that I could do better than Robbie. And Andrew is the best guy I've ever met. Even you say that about him. And he doesn't want me."

At that moment, I was reminded for some unknown reason of a sign that hung on the walls of my fourth grade classroom that read "Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss you'll land among the stars." But Halley had not shot for the moon. She had aimed for the sun. She had aimed for the best guy on earth. And if I-his lifelong best friend-was not worthy of him, how the heck did she expect to deserve him? But Halley was rarely logical as I was being reminded by the blubbering mess in front of me that was using up all my Kleenex and eating all of my secret stash of chocolate.

"Maybe you just aren't his type," I said weakly.

"Well what is his type?"

Me, I thought but didn't say. He likes redheads. He likes green eyes. I didn't know if these things really were true, but I suspected that they were.

"Honey, you're twenty. You've got plenty of time to find the right guy. Plenty of people don't get married until they're in their thirties. And I'm twenty-seven and I'm not married. I'm happy single. You can be happy single too."

"I want a husband," she wailed. "I want to get married. I don't want to be an old maid like you!"

Ouch, I thought but didn't say. "But I don't really want to get married," I told her. "I've chosen to be single. I don't need a man. We're in very different places in our live, Halley."

"I want babies!"

"I have a niece and nephew. I'm content with them." But I wasn't really. For the first time in my life, I wanted little Knightley babies of my own. And I didn't want Jack to be their father; I wanted Andrew to be their father. He loved children and would be a wonderful father. How had I never noticed what a great guy Andrew was before? Okay, so he yelled at me when we were in Chicago-BUT I deserved it. And he was currently freezing me out-BUT (again) it was very much so deserved. I hadn't been the sort of person that I could or should be.

* * *

A few hours later, I found myself being summoned by text message to Andrew's office. "I'm going to Virginia for two weeks," he told me as soon as I walked into the room."I need a real vacation with no one bothering me. And I'm leaving tomorrow."

"And who is going to be here to help me with the show?" I asked.

"Nina and Ethan are here," he replied coldly.

I rolled my eyes. "Nina is due almost any day now."

"First babies are usually late. Remember Carson."

Another eye roll followed that remark; our nephew was born twelve days after his due date. "Nina isn't Ava. And she's already started having minor contractions."

"Em, it's just for two weeks. Everything will be fine. And Ethan is still here."

"Are you serious? You trust me with Ethan? I can't stand him and you know that he and Rowan hate me and have hated me ever since I told Ethan that I wouldn't date him."

"I need this vacation, Emma. I need to talk to Jack."

"Call him," I said coldly. "That's what I do when I need to talk to Ava."

"This is more serious, Em. I need to handle this in person."

I sighed. "I don't like it, Andrew. But do what you want. God knows you've never let my opinions bother you before."

"Em, don't be like this. Just don't, okay? Trust me; I have very good reasons why I'm doing this."

"I know you do. I just don't like the way it leaves me."

"Your dad told me that you apologized to Joyce and that you've been very kind to her and her mother lately."

"I'm trying to be a better person," I replied, leaning against the bookshelf. "I don't mean to be a jerk. And I know that I did something I shouldn't have done. But I'm sorry."

"I know you are," he said. "It just wasn't a good trip for me and I'm stressed and confused and the trip wasn't really a vacation for me. So I'm leaving. I need to leave. I can't be here anymore. I'll be back in two weeks. You can hold down the fort until then."

And then his phone started ringing. "It's someone from the network. I'll talk to you later," he said.

* * *

He didn't talk to me again for two weeks. He emailed me regularly and texted me frequently-always about the show or Nina. But he didn't call me. And I didn't call him. To be honest, I was angry about being abandoned with a hormonal pregnant woman and Ethan. And Ethan was by far the worse of the two. He wouldn't stop asking me questions about stupid things like "where do you buy your basil?"

"I grow it in the garden," I told him-and not for the first time. "I grow all of my herbs and vegetables in my garden."

"But it's just May."

"I grow herbs in pots in the house year round to make sure that I always have fresh herbs."

"I've never noticed that before. That's so unusual."

I shrugged. "My mom did it before I did. And I've even seen potted herbs on the windowsill in Joyce's kitchen."

"Weird, Rowan and I agree that it's kind of dumb. We think that it makes more sense to buy your herbs and stuff like that at the grocery store."

"That's great but I'm into organic and homegrown foods."

"Dumb trends, it'll all pass away."

"I think it's healthier," I replied. "And I'll do what I want to do."

* * *

Three days before Andrew's scheduled return, Nina gave birth to a baby girl. Amalia Rose Weston was born at 9:21 in the evening of Saturday, May 29, 2010. She was perfectly beautiful. I saw her for the first time the next morning when I went to the hospital with pink daisies and balloons for Nina and baby Amalia. Amalia was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. She had skin the color of coffee au lait and dark brown hair. Her nose really did look like a button. "She looks like a little baby doll," I told Nina. "She's perfect."

"I bet you tell all the new moms that."

"I might not think that she's as pretty as I think that Emma is. But Emma is my niece and I'm extremely biased there. Amalia is the second most beautiful baby in the world."

"I have to disagree," Charlie said from his seat next to his wife on the hospital bed. They were adorable. They were both tired and rumpled-looking. But they were also glowing and oozing happiness. He had his arm wrapped around her shoulders and she was leaning against him, looking completely at peace.

"She's perfect to me," Nina said. "And I think she's more beautiful than baby Emma is. But you're biased and you just can't see how beautiful Amalia is."

I stroked Amalia's cheek and smiled. "No, I know you're right. I love her, you guys. You have created this perfect little angel. And I'm so happy for you guys. Has Holden met her yet?"

Charlie shook his head. "He's actually in Phoenix right now but he's flying into town today. And he's coming straight to the hospital to meet her. I sent him a picture of her last night and he said that she's perfect and beautiful and wonderful and he can't wait to meet her."

"Did you tell Andrew yet?"

"Oh shit, I knew I forgot something!"

"Are you serious?" I asked.

He nodded. "I totally forgot. He's out of town and everything is so crazy and I just forgot."

So I sent Andrew a text message with a picture of me holding Amalia Rose Weston with a caption that read "Meet Amalia Rose Weston, the newest member of the _Cooking with Miss Woodhouse_ family."

Ten minutes later, he replied saying "She's gorgeous. Tell Charlie and Nina congrats and I'll see all three of them next week when I get back."

* * *

When I started getting ready to leave, Charlie followed me out into the hall. "I need to talk to you about Holden," he said.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I don't want to hurt you. I think you know that Nina and I were really hoping that you and he would get together."

"I knew that. And we did go on some dates together."

"I know. And I hope that you won't be too hurt if I tell you that he has found someone else. We were hoping that thing were working for you but it appears that he has been secretly married to someone for almost a year now."

"Secretly married?" I repeated. "Who the hell would agree to be secretly married to Holden for a whole fucking year?"

"Jessie Fairfax," he replied.

"Wait. He threw himself at me IN FRONT OF HER while he was married to her. I feel like a slut. He used me. He manipulated me. He's a bastard."

"And he's my son," Charlie said weakly. "I'm so sorry, Em. I really had no clue that any of this was going on. He didn't want his mom to know what he had done, so he did it from every one. I'm so sorry that this happened and I hope that you can forgive Nina ad me. We didn't know and we wouldn't have encouraged you had we known. We both feel really badly about how this is working out for everyone. And we're sorry."

I put my hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault. I know that. I know that you didn't intend for anything bad to happen to me. I forgive you of anything that you feel that you need to be forgiven for."

"Em, I would have liked it if things had worked out between you two," he said, squeezing my free hand.

I shook my head. "I'm fine. He didn't break my heart but he did hurt my pride and my dignity a little. And maybe my vanity is hurt. But my heart is fine."

He smiled. "I really am sorry about this. You're a wonderful girl."

"I can't believe that he and Jessie have been secretly married. How the hell did that happen?"

Charlie shook his head. "He's my son but I don't know him well and I don't understand him. I can't tell you why he did this."

"Why did he suddenly decide to announce his marriage now?"

"Gwendolyn suddenly decided that he should get married because it would provide his life with some stability after years of saying that no one should ever get married because it's just a social construct. But now apparently it's a social construct that might being structure and stability to her son's supposedly chaotic lifestyle. So he informed her that he'd actually been married for about a year now."

I shook my head. "Well, I hate to say it to his father, but I think I might be better off without him. I wish him all the best with Jessie. But I think that I'm better off alone."

"You're a free spirit, Em," Charlie replied. "And I think that you're too free for Holden."

I shrugged. "That may well be."

* * *

I walked to the elevator in silence and rode it down to the first floor alone. I walked to my car and drove home-alone. And when I got home, my dad wasn't home. I was alone in our big house. I had almost called Andrew four times between the elevator and home. I had texted him to tell him that we needed to talk when we got home but it wasn't anything important, so it could wait; he replied that a dinner, beer, and movie evening with me would be on the top of his priorities when he got home. I wanted to call Ava but Andrew was there and I wasn't sure I wanted him to know what had happened. He'd mock me. But I needed my big sister's advice. And I needed to cry on her shoulder. I wasn't broken-hearted. But my vanity was injured and I needed consolation. I wasn't about to tell my sister how I felt about Andrew. She'd like that too much; she'd always wanted us to end up together. But Holden, dear God, I needed to tell someone that. So I called my sister and received the necessary sympathy. But I still felt empty. And I wanted Andrew. Only Andrew could fix everything.

* * *

A/N: So I could totally make this longer and take things farther. But a) that would make my lovely readers wait even longer for an update and I feel that to be cruelty and b) I want to do the whole Andrew-Emma fireworks and lightning scene in one chapter/update.

So please review and enjoy!


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: I do not own the obvious. Also, I love my reviewers; you guys rock.

* * *

I'll never forget that first Wednesday of June, Andrew's first day back after his trip to Virginia. I was wearing an apple-green wrap dress over a lacy black camisole and silver ballet flats with silver necklaces, earrings, and bracelets. I told you I'd never forget. I didn't wear Chucks because I wanted to wear something classier, something that Andrew would like. I wanted to impress him, to make him happy. I'd spent twenty-seven years making myself happy and now I wanted to make someone else happy-really happy. I wanted him to see me as someone who could maintain her individuality while making compromises for the man she loved.

Halley didn't come into work that day. She was too embarrassed to face Andrew, apparently. Other reports had her making the walk of shame home from Robbie Martin's apartment. I didn't really care. I wanted to see Andrew and talk to him.

Nina, of course, was at home with Amalia who was only five days old. And Ethan had mysteriously vanished with Rowan for the week. So I was left alone with Joyce a few other loyal crew members. And Andrew was there. But we didn't talk before we shot the episode other than a cursory rundown of the plan for the episode because he had been running late that morning. Andrew does not normally find himself running late. But he helped me make bruschetta and prosciutto with melon and tiramisu. And I think it was a good episode. The people in the online discussion boards seemed to agree with my opinions. There were plenty of excited comments about Andrew's return and a few comments about some "sizzling chemistry" between Andrew and me.

* * *

And then I went back to my office to do some research-or look at pictures of Amalia that Charlie had emailed me. It's difficult to recall that exact detail. But I think that I was looking at a picture of Amalia burping when Andrew barged into my office.

Honestly, he barged in. he didn't even knock. He just walked right in, slammed the door into the wall, sat down opposite me, and said, "We need to talk."

I slammed my laptop closed-on top of my hand-and yelped before saying, "Okay, why? Does the network have new rules for us or something?"

He shook his head. "This isn't about business, Em. This is personal."

"Oh dear," I sighed.

"Holden is an asshole," he began. "He never deserved you. He doesn't even deserve Jessie and I can't believe that she's put up with his shit for this long."

"Huh?"

"He hurt you but he isn't worth your pain or your trouble."

"Andrew," I said, raising my hand cautiously. "Just a moment, you've got it all wrong."

"No, I'm pretty sure that I heard what your dad told Ava. And then I heard about what you told her; hell, she practically read me your email."

I sighed. "But you're missing an important fact, Andrew. I never was in love with him."

He stopped and looked at me. He looked at me like he'd never seen me before in his life. "You never loved him. But you went on dates with him. And Nina made plans."

"Nina and Charlie made plans. I didn't. I went out with him to make them happy. I didn't really like him. I was flattered that he noticed me but I didn't love him. He didn't make me happy."

"You had me fooled."

"I'm sorry," I told him.

"And he doesn't deserve you. You didn't know he was married. What would have happened if you had really fallen for him?"

"I don't know," I said simply. "I suppose my heart could have been broken. But mercifully, it wasn't. And I'm a wiser girl for the experience."

"I just hate the idea that he used you like this."

I sighed. "Andrew, I've forgiven him. You should too. They're moving back to Arizona to live with his mother and explore their artistic abilities."

"Of course they are," he said, looking frustrated, exasperated, and confused. "Holden is very lucky. He hurts people but they forgive him. His mother suddenly changes her mind and lets him keep living his life the way he wants to. His secret life doesn't really hurt anyone very deeply and those who are hurt forgive him eagerly."

"I'm not going to lie and tell you that this has been easy or fun or simple for me. But it is what it is and I can't change it. And I really would like to see Jessie have some happiness in life. She's talking about moving Joyce and her grandmother down to Arizona with her. And I'll miss them but it will be good for them. The weather will be better for Mrs. Bates's health and they'll get to spend time with Jessie more frequently. It'll just be better all around." I paused and smoothed my skirt while trying to think how to say what I wanted to say next. "Don't get me wrong. I'll miss Joyce but she needs to be with her mother and I think that Arizona is just a better option for Mrs. Bates."

"I'm glad for them," he said, flatly. "I'm so freaking happy that everything always works out for Holden and Jessie."

"You're angry," I said.

"Try frustrated and you'll be closer to home," was Andrew's sniping reply.

"Andrew, what's bothering you? I'm your friend. We can talk about whatever it is."

He sighed. "That's the bloody problem, Red. Friendship, we're friends. But that's it. We're friends. And we tell each other everything. But really we don't. Everyone knows Holden's secret but no one knows mine. I'm sick of it. I hide this huge secret from everyone. And I'm sick of it."

"If it's going to change things between us, I don't want to know. You're my best friend. And I don't want to hurt that."

He stood up. "Fine, if that's the way you want it, Emma, then we'll leave it like that. I'll see you later."

Fuck. I thought I hadn't actually verbalized that thought but based on Andrew's sudden turn to look at me and the look of confusion on his face, I had actually said it out loud.

"Emma?" he said slowly.

"We're friends, Andrew. Tell me what your secret is. I'll listen to it regardless of the effect that it has on our friendship. I wouldn't put our friendship in jeopardy for the world."

He looked at me and shook his head. "Friends," he spat the word like it was poison. "Friendship is all well and good but I don't want to be friends with you anymore."

"Then what do you want?"

"Oh, Emma," Andrew said slowly. "Don't you know? I want you. You're my best friend and you're so much more than that. You're brave and strong and marvelous. You put up with my moods and my lectures and me. You've borne everything as no other woman could have or would have. You are wonderful, Emma, and I love you. I think I've always loved you. I know you probably don't want to hear this and you probably don't love me. But I love you. I went to Virginia to get you out of my head, to make myself stop loving you but I couldn't do it. Your sister is too much like you. And you were more present to me in your absence than you had ever been before. I cannot erase you from my mind or my heart. I cannot learn how to stop loving you. I can't unlearn you. I love you. You're part of me. You're in my fucking DNA. Say something, Em, anything. Tell me to go to hell. Just tell me what you're thinking."

I jumped up from my desk, ran to him, and took his hands in mine. "I want you," I whispered, squeezing his hands. "You're all I want. I don't know when or how but somewhere between preschool and now I fell in love with you. And I want this to be the last match I ever make. I want us to be the one match that I really do make."

And then he kissed me. I'm not going to lie; it was amazing, absolutely amazing. Andrew is a much better kisser than Holden could ever hope to be. He was just wonderful; wonderful really is the only word that can describe him.

* * *

We sat in my office for a long time-kissing and cuddling and saying all the things that we'd never said before. "You know when I realized how much you meant to me?"

"It was when I left for two weeks and basically ignored you. Absence made the heart grow fonder."

I laughed and shook my head. "I was talking to Halley."

"Oh good heavens," he said.

"She was talking to me about her feelings for you and I realized that you were in my heart and in my head and you could never leave. You were the only one for you and I was the only one for you."

He kissed my nose. "I'm sorry about how things worked out with her but I'm so glad that I have you."

"I suppose that now she'll want to quit her job."

"She's replaceable as a secretary. You're completely and utterly replaceable, Red."

"I like being called Red."

Andrew laughed. "You hated it for years. You've fought it constantly."

"I know, but something changed. Suddenly, it's extraordinarily romantic. You're C.K. Dexter Haven and I'm your Red. I'm your Tracy Samantha Lord."

"No," he said softly. "You're my Emma Woodhouse and that is enough for me."

"I love you, Andrew Knightley."

"I love you too," he said before capturing my lips in a mind-blowing and earth-shattering kiss.

* * *

"Does this mean that you're going to move into our house full-time?" I asked Andrew a few days later as we sat on the couch and watched _The Philadelphia Story_.

He laughed. "I would but then I would have to live with your dad around the clock."

"He's not that bad."

Just then, my dad walked into the room and told us that he was going to turn up the heat because it was too cold in the house. We had the air conditioning on; if he was cold, he could have just turned off the AC.

After my dad left the room, Andrew shot me a pointed look and I sighed. "I get your point. But I love you and I want you around all the time. And I can't exactly leave him here alone."

"I'll consider moving in. But I'll spend hours in my office working or something. And I'll join a gym for my constitution and emotional, physical, and spiritual well-being."

I laughed and kissed his cheek. "You, my dear, are freaking amazing."

"I'm your deer now, huh? So it's open hunting season for me on November 15?"

"That's just gun hunting," I replied. "Bow-and-arrow hunting starts earlier." But I took the hint; he didn't want to be called "my dear"-ever.

"Have you told your dad about us yet?" he asked, suddenly changing the course of our conversation.

I shook my head. "I'm afraid of how he'll react."

"It can't be that bad. He does like me."

I laughed. "He adores you, Andrew. But if you marry me, it will mean that you're trying to take me away from him."

He shook his head. "Nah, it just means that I really love you. And I want to be honest with him. He's your dad, Em."

Oh, I knew he was my dad. That was the problem. He was far too protective of me, his darling daughter. And I could never get married because getting married would mean leaving him. He was afraid of abandonment. My mother had left him-granted, by dying-and he didn't want to be left ever again. If he knew that Andrew was special to me, he would be hurt because if Andrew was more important to me than my dad was, then I might leave my dad for Andrew. I think that somewhere in the Bible it says something about how it is natural for a man and a woman to leave their parents for each other. Everyone does it. Why can't my father understand that? I don't know the answer to that question but I do know that my father can't. And I told Andrew that.

"Then I'll tell him about us. And I'll tell him the truth. I love you. And I won't take you away from him. I'll come here and live with you two if that's what it takes. He might drive me crazy but he is important to you and what's important to you is important to me."

"Okay," I said. I liked the sound of that.

"Let's go upstairs now."

"Now?" I asked, my voice squeaking.

He laughed and grabbed my hand. "Come on, Red. Where's your courage?"

* * *

My father stared at us as Andrew explained that we loved each other and we were dating each other. "But why?" he asked. "Why would you do this to me? First Ava leaves me and now you two are falling in love. Nothing good comes from falling in love. People get hurt and leave each other. Ava fell in love with Jack and she left me. Why would you want to fall in love?"

"We don't want to hurt you," I protested. "And I'm not going to leave you. You're going to gain another son."

"Emma won't move out of the house-ever. I'm going to move in here, into your house when Em and I decide that we're both ready to take that step."

"I don't like change."

I sighed and Andrew squeezed my hand as he said, "I'm already here all the time so it won't make much of a difference. And when we have children, you'll live with them and you'll get to see them way more than you get to see Ava and Jack's kids."

I balked slightly at the idea of having children right away but it seemed to make my father happy, so I let it be. He actually seemed to like the idea of having Andrew around more. I don't think he wanted me to get married anytime soon but he did want Andrew around more.

* * *

Ava's immediate reaction was to say "I knew it! I knew you two would end up together." And then she proceeded to rant about how perfect Andrew and I are for each other while yelling at Jack about how he owed her like thirty dollars because of some bet they'd made two years earlier. I really wasn't comfortable with the idea of them betting on my personal life but I let it go. You have to let it go when it is your sister-especially if your sister is Ava. And Andrew and I both knew that. He told me that if/when we ever get married, I'd have to let her be the matron of honor because it's the only way she'll ever be happy and feel that we're showing her how important she is to our relationship. She keeps talking about how she and Jack pushed Andrew and me together by making us the maid of honor and best man in their wedding-over five years ago. I think that being in Charlie and Nina's wedding together-and now being asked to be little Amalia's godparents together-has more to do with the evolution of our relationship. But she is my sister and I'll leave it be because I want to keep her happy. And I do love her. And I want to keep being able to see my darling little niece and nephew.

* * *

Nina, on the other hand, seemed surprised by the whole thing. She really had thought that I was going for Holden and that I wanted Holden. Umm, pregnancy hormones must have really been tripping with her brain because Andrew was my dream man. And I didn't know that I had a dream man. Okay, I'd always liked Jeremy Northam and Christian Bale. But I'd never really thought about guys I actually knew, guys who were actually attainable.

"Andrew has always been there and I never saw him," I told Nina. "He let me throw up on him when I got drunk in high school. I ruined his best shoes and his only pair of dress pants and he was still my friend. We've been best friends through some of the stupidest spats of all time. He puts up with my Jeremy Northam obsession and even watched _Trainspotting_ with me when I was desperate to watch every Jonny Lee Miller movie ever made."

"He does put up with a lot from you," Nina said. "I never really thought about everything he does for you."

I laughed. "Neen, I took him for granted from pre-school until a few weeks ago."

She laughed and pointed out the window where we could see Andrew talking to Charlie while holding Amalia. "I thought he was interested in Jessie at one point."

"Firstly, that would never happen or work out," I replied defensively. "And secondly, he made it quite clear to me that he wasn't interested in her at all."

She shrugged. "I guess I just missed something. Maybe being pregnant messed with my logic."

Just then, Andrew and Charlie came into the house, my boyfriend still carrying the little one. I loved it. They were so darling together. He was, as always, enraptured by spending time with a small child. I knew that Andrew wanted to be a father. He had told me once that he wanted at least two or three children-four at most but he wanted at least one of each.

"Do you want to hold her, Red?" Andrew asked as he came and sat down next to me on the loveseat.

I nodded and took her from him. He smiled and I looked at Nina. "Neen, she's gorgeous. I love her so much."

"Try being her mother. I didn't know that I could love anyone that much until she was born."

I smiled and kissed the baby's smooth forehead. "She makes me all mushy inside. She makes me want a baby of my own."

"Look out, Andrew," Charlie said. "She's already dropping hints and you've only been dating for a week or so."

Andrew laughed and ran a finger along the baby's soft, smooth cheek. "I think that we're in a different place than most couples who have only been together for a week are. We've been best friends since birth practically and we know each other better than some married couples do."

"I think," I added cautiously. "In some ways, Andrew and I have been dating for years and we never really knew it."

He smiled in a way that told me that I was probably right and in a way that told me our relationship would progress faster than most normal relationships. But I was okay with that. I loved Andrew. And all I really wanted was to spend the rest of my life with him.

* * *

A/N: Please review. And please forgive me for taking for-freaking-ever to update.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: For the (sadly) last time, I don't own what you recognize. I love all of my reviewers; you guys have been great; thanks for reviewing and loving and enjoying.

**

* * *

Epilogue**

* * *

Let's all be honest about this. I was thrilled, over the moon about being with Andrew. But I didn't want to tell Halley about it. I'd heard about her budding romance or fling or relationship with Robbie Martin but I wasn't sure how she'd handle my relationship with Andrew. But I should have told her because instead she heard from Rowan. And she quit her job the same week. And she and Robbie moved to Ypsilanti to go to Eastern Michigan University. And I barely heard from her after that. But I knew she was doing well. And she was doing better without me than she'd ever been with me in her life.

Jessie and Holden were in Tucson. And they were very happy. And Jessie and I were able to be friends now that her secret was out in the open, now that her husband wasn't trying to seduce me or woo me or whatever. We talked on the phone. And we emailed. And I kind of wanted her to be in my wedding when Andrew and I got married. We weren't engaged. Well, he hadn't gotten down on one knee or given me a ring yet. But we were planning on getting married. He'd hinted that we should just run off to Vegas together or something like that. He'd also hinted at throwing a party, inviting all our friends and relatives, and having a surprise wedding in the backyard on a cool autumn afternoon. I liked that idea. I liked it a lot. I didn't want to make a big fuss; I just wanted to have the most important people in my life there.

He wasn't living in our house yet either. My dad refused to let Andrew move in until we were at least engaged but he had made it crystal clear that he would prefer if we were married before we moved in together.

* * *

And that's why we had our families and friends in my dad's backyard on the last Saturday of October that year-the day before Halloween. Jack and Ava were in town with their kids for a week and on Saturday, we threw a party-ostensibly to celebrate little Emma's first birthday and so that our friend and family could see the out-of-town Knightleys while they were in Highbury. Only our families knew what was really up-and why I was wearing a long-sleeved white dress under my olive-green cardigan. The dress was, of course, over a pair of skinny jeans-answering my childhood threat to Ava of wearing jeans at my wedding. And, to make Andrew happy, I wasn't wearing Chucks but instead a pair of classy white ballet flats. In the five months since I'd started dating him, I'd started favoring ballet flats over Chucks because I wanted to look pretty and classy over looking rebellious and stubborn.

"You look stellar," Rowan said, coming up next to me as I carefully arranged a platter of pumpkin bread.

I smiled. "Thanks."

"I just wanted to tell you that Ethan is going to be leaving his job at the end of the year. I think he needs to find a different work environment. He isn't friends with Andrew anymore and I think he needs to find a job where he can still have friends at work and not have to worry about his friend's girlfriend separating them."

I nodded without really looking up at her. "I'm sorry to hear that. We wish him nothing but the best."

"You aren't worried or angry?"

I shook my head. "Not really, I guess. I know that we can find someone to replace him and I know that he'll do well in whatever he does. But we can replace him. And we can find someone else who will be more comfortable with my relationship with Andrew."

She clearly hadn't been expecting this reaction and sniffed. "But I thought you needed him."

I shook my head. "The primary reason why we hired him was personal concern and the fact that he went to high school with Andrew and me." I didn't tell her that there had been more qualified applicants whom we had turned away out of concern for a friend-and that friend had ended up letting us down. Go figure.

* * *

After dinner, Andrew and I got married. It was quick, simple, and perfect. Naturally, Ava and my dad cried. Somehow, I had ended up holding a bouquet of orange gerbera daisies and my niece Emma-who was quickly becoming known as Emmy-during the ceremony. And when I threw my bouquet, Joyce caught it.

* * *

So my show became _Cooking with Mrs. Knightley_. And it was more wonderful than before. Life was more wonderful than before now that Andrew was my husband. We did have a daughter named Hannah Clarissa; she was born about a year after we got married. And she had a younger brother named Zachary Andrew and a younger sister named Abigail Grace. Zack was a ginger.

And we lived happily ever after-two best friends married.

* * *

THE END.

A/N: It's over. Please review. After I finish _Knit 'n' Lit_, I might do something with either Sense and Sensibility or Mansfield Park.


End file.
